Sinnerman
by Detochkina
Summary: Loss, greed, unfulfilled ambitions, and a ticking clock. Bella finds herself in the middle of another family's drama and while on the mission to help, she loses the track of what's right and what's wrong. Criminal Drama/Romance, Canon pairings, AH, OOC
1. Prologue

**Hello, thank you for stopping by.  
**

**The story will be rated "M" for a reason, not only because there is going to be sexual content, but also because there are going to be ****mentioned some sensitive topics.**

**Please consider that while I do refer to some well known locations, events, artists, and real life situations, this story is the work of fiction, so please treat it as such.  
**

**Thank you to: mopstyle, my beta queen/nazi... My commas wouldn't be the same without you! They sparkle because of you!**

**Revrag, AllySue, Annichka and Twitchling, my undying gratidute for your support! Rehab ladies, thank you for cheering me on!**

**Please see my profile for more links related to the story. Thank you very much for reading.  
**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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**Sinnerman**

**Prologue**

**_EPOV_**

"What's wrong, baby? Are you holding on okay?" I glance at Bella when she doesn't respond to my request. I need her to move to my right and open the bag for me. We are in a hurry. Our task here is very time sensitive. In fact, the only luxury that we do not have right now is time.

I notice how Bella tries to say something, but nothing comes out of her mouth. In shock, I watch how she is starting to shake–tremors moving through her body. Bella's rosy lips turn deathly blue. Her eyes become dim and roll back into her head as she flails her hands around her torso, turns completely slack, and then silently drops to her side.

I spin, catching Bella right before she nearly hits the floor. Her weight drags me down, and I nearly lose my balance, causing her head to jerk and connect with the ground with a soft thud. I curse under my breath while frantically trying to figure out what's wrong with her. Quickly, I check Bella for any wounds, finding nothing. I then scan around the room, searching for any indication of what could have caused such a reaction from her. All I see are Alice and Jasper, frozen in their spots, looking very puzzled and scared–just as scared as I am at the moment. The silence in the room becomes almost deafening. The last shreds of my control are quickly dissipating, being replaced by a sheer panic rising in my chest. I can't allow myself to panic. I need to snap out of it, right now.

_Please! Not again!_

I squeeze my eyes and take a deep breath, willing the loud throbbing in my head to go away. I try to steady myself while kneeling over Bella.

"B! Baby, are you hurt? Wake up, please!" With trembling hands, I gently slap her cheeks. She doesn't respond at all. At this point I am absolutely terrified. Something is wrong with my girl, and it's entirely my fault! I am the reason she is here with me right now, and if we don't get out of here in the next minute and sixteen seconds, her life is over–our lives are over.

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**A/N: Thank you for reading. A few words from you make a huge difference.**


	2. Chapter 1 Lost Penny

**Hello, thank you for stopping by.**

**The story is rated "M" for a reason, not only because there's going to be sexual content, but also because there are going to be mentioned some sensitive topics. However, while I do refer to some well-known locations, events, artists, and real life situations, this story is the work of fiction, so please treat it as such.**

**Thank you to: mopstyle, my beta queen/nazi. My commas wouldn't be the same without you. Revrag, AllySue, Annichka and Twitchling, my undying gratitude for your support! Rehab ladies, thank you for cheering me on.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Lost Penny**

_**BPOV**_

"Hello, I'm Bella Swan, and I belong in jail," Jessica teasingly greeted an imaginary audience, waving her hand as if she were a newly crowned beauty queen.

Of course, a few people stopped to gape at us as if her tomfoolery alone wasn't embarrassing enough.

"Shut it, Jess." I swatted her hand down. "Not funny."

"It's plenty funny, you, candy snatcher. If you ever get blacklisted in your favorite book store, dude, where you gonna hide from me during our trips?" Jessica taunted me. "And are you gonna remember to pay for it?" She pointed at the lollipop in my mouth.

"Yesh! Maybe? Let me do it right now," I lisped with the candy under my tongue and moved to the counter, digging into my backpack for my wallet. Crap, where was it?

"Jesh…" I turned to my ditz of a friend only to find her booking out of the store.

She waved her hand with her back at me. Of course she knew I was watching.

My phone beeped.

**Will come bck 4u when I'm hungry.**

She either typed up that message in about two and half seconds or had it drafted before we left Forks. I believed it was the latter.

_**Way to ditch me!**_ I quickly texted back.

Though we both knew that by leaving me alone she was just holding up her side of the bargain—I drove her to Port Angeles since she couldn't (borrowing a car from her mom was a constant issue), in return I got to spend time on my own at the stores of my choice. Not a bad bargain, if you ask me, although that wasn't how it started.

Jessica and I had a friendship pact. It was born on my first day at Forks High, and I was proud how I went about it. After all, it was the hardest thing I had done up to that point in my life. And my life had been nothing but a void, ironically, until I had moved to the small town of Forks.

xxx

To keep the divorce rate in this country at a steady level, my parents followed suit when I was at the tender age of two.

My mom, Renee, had always explained to me that her failed marriage to my father Charlie, while she never faulted him, provided her with the most important lessons. Renee relished in her declaration that there was no such thing as "soul mates," and that no love could last forever. However, she did not hesitate to contradict herself when she had the slightest chance. Her search for happiness brought a never-ending string of men into our home, along with constant heartbreak on her part.

Each time Renee got hurt, she would turn to me, needing support and tending to. I did the best I could as a child to be there for her. In return, she gave me the best gift she could provide as a parent and a friend—she introduced me to the world of books. When I was about five years old, Renee took me to the bookshelf in the living room of our house. She told me that from now on, the space on the lower two shelves belonged solely to me. There was already a small set of books sitting there for me, and ever since then she continued replacing and adding to the collection. She talked to me about the new stories she got for me to read, and she always made sure that there was a variety to keep me interested. And interested I was.

Outside of that, my life was fairly basic. I tried to spend time with my mother, when she was available. I signed up for AP classes at school to keep myself challenged. And I read, and read, and read. My collection of books grew every year, eventually taking over not only the entire bookshelf in the living room, but also every available space in my own.

_Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé; you become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed_. I had been tamed. Books were my sanctuary and my curse. The enticement of romance stories, the universe of fiction and fantasy were so alluring for me, they made it impossible for anyone around me to measure up. I was spoiled. I was no good for the real world.

"Confused and lonely" would not even begin to describe my state of mind by the time I turned sixteen. I wasn't a complete outcast, and didn't have a problem interacting with my peers at school. Making close friends, sharing and opening up to others, however, was another issue all together. I simply lacked that fundamental social skill.

So, there I had it—my flighty mom and the world of fiction. For a while, I didn't complain.

My life shifted when Renee met a guy named Phil Dwyer and out of blue decided to start a new family. Our "mother-daughter" unit was no more; Renee was occupied like never before, working on her happiness with Phil. I simply could not stay with them while they were busy showing off their affection at every turn. The immediate months after their wedding were excruciating for me.

Thanks to their sex antics, that summer I learned the meaning of the word "insatiable" intimately. Their young love only made me feel lonelier; it was during that time I also discovered the world of self-pleasure.

When Phil landed a contract with a minor league baseball team and had to move to Florida, I was actually relieved and saw it as a way out my unhappy situation. I suggested that Renee go with him, which left me with only one choice—move to Forks and live with Charlie. The change was supposed to be good for me—new town, however small, new people, however they'd turn out to be.

I had neither the chance, nor any interest in becoming the most popular person at a new school. I found it absolutely unnecessary, and the mere thought of it was laughable. However, as coming to live in Forks was my decision, I arrived here with a resolution in mind to end my seclusion. I wasn't interested in treading water anymore. There was life out there and I wanted to belong, tired of constantly feeling alone and invisible.

xxx

My second day at Forks began with Charlie calling me to the kitchen.

"Just a minute!" I responded.

Standing in front of the closet mirror, half-dressed, I couldn't decide about the outfit for my first day of school. What normally seemed acceptable looked old-fashioned and boring today. Of course, what could I expect after being dressed by Renee my entire life? Her sporadic income and ever changing interests were no help instilling any sense of style in me.

"I'll be right down!" I yelled again, needing more time, and reluctantly stepped into the closet.

It smelled like Charlie and Renee—musk over floral—inside, and it occurred to me that my new house and the old clothes I brought from Phoenix didn't mix together. Something had to give, and I knew without hesitation what my choice would be. Though Renee didn't belong to this place any longer, I knew I did.

So, it looked like I needed new clothes. How exciting. Except, there was a small problem—I needed a serious help in fashion department but knew no one in Forks who could provide it to me. It was safe to say Charlie didn't count. For Halloween, maybe. Then, again, last time I trusted a parent with a costume was in the third grade. I wore a pink "Skeleton Bride" dress made by ever-talented Renee. I was a riot. It's a miracle I hadn't developed a social disorder after that evening. Well, on another hand, maybe I had—hence me being in Forks now, living with Charlie, standing before the closet, and having trouble identifying who I was.

Searching through my scarce wardrobe I hoped to find something if not cute, at least weather appropriate, and I wasn't coming up with much. Phoenix to Forks transition wasn't proving to be a successful one so far.

Since there wasn't a lot to deliberate on, I opted for dark wash jeans and a light green sweater. V-neck never goes out of style, right? With a sigh, I dug out a pair of yellowish-brown Uggs from under the bed I shoved there the night before in hope to never see them again. There weren't waterproof, and let's just say that the color of baby's poop was never my favorite, and yet—courtesy of Renee—I was the owner of shoes sporting exactly that soothing shade. It was Renee's farewell gift for me from the Goodwill, or "The G-store", as she called it. I sighed again–I missed Renee, despite her less than useful gifts.

Once dressed, I went back to the bathroom for my cosmetic bag. The bulbs over the sink, spread nakedly on a rusty bar that at some point was shining gold, were a strong reminder of how little Charlie cared about making his house a real home—even for himself. The furnishings and even the curtain over the tub had been exactly the same ever since I could remember, and I had a feeling that these bathroom fixtures knew Renee and could share a few stories, if they only could talk.

The content of my cosmetics bag was a fine representation of my current state of being. Like most teens I had a typical-for-my-age skin problem, I'd been strapped for cash most of the time, and had no boyfriend. In the bag, there were a small tube of acne cream, a lip gloss, a sample of mascara and yeah, a beat-up condom, discreetly planted by my free-spirited mother not long ago to my mortification. The condom was her version of the birds and the bees talk. It had no chance of getting used, yet there was no point of getting rid of it—it kept coming back, so at some point I gave up trying.

Applying makeup didn't take too long since I'd been a fan of it. A touch of mascara, some blush to my cheeks, and a smidge of a lip gloss—and I was ready. It didn't look as bad as I thought. I pulled the rubber tie off my head and tossed my hair around, lightly fluffing it up.

Back in my room, I snatched my backpack from the floor and ran downstairs, afraid Charlie had lost all faith in me while waiting.

He was sitting at the empty kitchen table in his black police uniform, tapping the car keys rhythmically on table's surface and looking outside the window.

"Morning! What's up?" I stepped into the kitchen, watching warily for his reaction to my being so late.

He turned his face to me. Thankfully, he didn't seem impatient or upset; he actually looked somewhat anxious.

"I…" He cleared his throat. "There's something I've got for you. Check it out." He nodded towards the window.

I walked closer to look outside. Charlie's cruiser was in the driveway, and an old red truck right next to it. I turned to him. "Are we having the visitors I don't know about?"

"Ahem… No. That red truck in the driveway is yours. I bought it for you."

The keys from his hand were quickly pushed into mine. He rose from his seat in indication he was done with the conversation.

"Oh wow. That's…" _My own car?_ "Just wow." It wasn't something I ever liked to do, but this one time I felt okay reaching out and hugging someone. "Thank you," I mumbled into Charlie's brief embrace.

"It's fine, Bells, the least I can do," he muttered, lightly patting my back. "Besides, this way I don't have to drive you around in my police cruiser," he added with an uncomfortable cough-like chuckle.

"That's definitely a relief." I felt immense gratitude for this man.

I watched him driving off in cruiser shortly after. Not that I expected him to wave at me or anything, but I kept looking out the window until the car turned around the corner and I could no longer see it. I stood in the middle of the kitchen, listening to the dripping sound of water in the sink, and to the ticking of the clock by the stove. I was all alone—again.

A loud rattling noise pulled me out of my trance. The fridge, which was possibly as old as this house, shook and stilled again, prompting me it was time to get going. Looking for a school snack, I rampaged through the cupboards, but all I found edible was a box of stale pop tarts. The picture inside the fridge was equally encouraging. It looked like it wasn't just me who was in dire need of change here.

xxx

My unexpected present was old and rusty, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The interior of the cabin was clean and in decent condition, even the stereo seemed to be functioning, though there was no FM radio available. I turned it on, searching for an available station, while taking in a mix of smells of metal, gasoline, and Febreze inside the truck. It was comforting and made me smile—Charlie must have cleaned it up before handing me the keys.

Renee was not a big fan of cars in general. She believed in "saving the environment," so we walked a lot and didn't even own a vehicle until Phil came along. He taught me how to drive manual, and as soon as I turned seventeen, he started trusting me to drive by myself. Renee freaked out each time I asked for the keys and made driving fast one of the hard limits to my freedom. I remembered taking Phil's Subaru and going straight for the freeway, speeding through the scorching desert with the hot wind blowing in my face. If I got caught then, my license and Phil's trust would have been revoked in a heartbeat, and yet, the exhilaration and contentment I felt from speeding was so much stronger than the fear of punishment, I couldn't resist the thrill.

Not without an effort, I rolled the window down in my truck, breathing in the cold, damp air of Forks, and missing the dry Arizona heat and the sun already.

The school parking lot was still mostly empty when I arrived. I took the spot farther away from the main entrance and stayed inside the truck for a few extra minutes, gathering the courage to meeting new faces. Starting a new school—and in the middle of the year, no less–I was a "fresh meat", and had a fair idea what to expect. It was going to get worse before it got better.

The buildings of Forks High lined up in front of me—all stone, glass, and enormous–looking cold and unwelcoming. I was trying to assure myself that very soon this new setting would become familiar and friendly. I was going to spend every day of the next year and half of my life here, and it was up to me whether that time would be enjoyable or miserable. I wanted to believe that the outcome was entirely within my power.

Once out of the truck, locked it and squared my shoulders. _I could do this._ My resolve was strong.

I hadn't made even a few steps when I heard someone calling my name.

"Isabella? Isabella Swan?"

Stunned that someone here could already know me, I turned to the voice. A girl was approaching me, sporting a wide smile on her face. She had big eyes, rosy cheeks, and dark curly hair. She was very pretty. Her curls bounced up and down with her every step. I watched her walk up to me, and I briefly prayed that the envy I felt for her confidence wasn't evident on my face. I swallowed, preparing myself for the encounter.

Clicking her heels as she stopped next to me, she quickly checked me over with an appraising look and asked, "Are you Isabella?"

"I prefer Bella," I said, just to gain some equilibrium in conversation, and because I didn't like her assessing me.

"Hi, Bella, I'm Jessica Stanley. We've been expecting you. I'm glad to be the first one to greet you today."

I probably appeared very startled by the unexpected outburst of happiness from a complete stranger.

"I know, I know, you think I'm totally random. But I assure you, it's nothing like that!" Jessica laughed and snaked her hand under my arm.

I almost dropped my backpack. _Why is she touching me?_

"Um… I'm sure the explanation is coming," I mumbled, trying not to cringe away from this overly friendly gesture.

"I'm just so happy you're finally here. Officer Swan has been telling my mom at the diner how he can't wait for his little girl to move back to Forks. We couldn't wait either. We are really a friendly bunch here, you'll see! I'll introduce you."

"Th-thanks?"

Who were "we"? And, wow, this girl was talkative!

"No prob! Do you already have your subject assignments?"

"First day here, remember?" I waved my hand, taking the opportunity to free myself from the uncomfortable closeness.

"You're funny!" Jessica declared, laughing. "You are exactly what we need in this stale swamp."

It would be a lie if I said that her obvious attempt at flattery didn't stroke my ego just the right way. I could get used to that—once I figured out why she was doing it. I almost expected her to laugh to my face but then squashed that thought. Why would she approach me in the first place if she planned to immediately turn me down? She seemed nice enough.

"Could you tell me how to get to the Admissions office?" I asked, already dreading the moment I was going to enter the school alone.

"Pfft, please," she said. "I'll take you. I'll even speak with Mrs. Cope for you to get you in the same classes as me. This is going to be fun!"

I didn't share her enthusiasm, still trying to figure this girl out. She was too perky, too sure of herself, yet obviously interested in me for some odd reason. I sighed. How was I going to fit in here if the very first person I met intimidated me?

"Hey, don't be nervous! I understand; it's your first day and all." Jessica stopped and looked at me. The empathy on her face surprised me.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked quietly.

"Do you like it honest? Or do you prefer ass kissing?" She smirked at me; her playful comment made me smile.

Ah, what the hell, what did I have to lose?

"Go for a gut. I can take it," I suggested, smirking back.

"Awww… Brave Bella. Don't worry, you are not that bad." She lightly bumped my shoulder with her fist. "At least you are not barfing in the bushes," she added.

_Ugh, gross… Wait, someone did that?_

I wasn't going to ask.

"That's… encouraging," I said instead.

In truth, barfing in the bushes wasn't an impossible outcome. Gaining a new friend, however, seemed like a much more attractive alternative.

"Ready?" Jessica asked.

I nodded, gripping on my backpack tighter.

"Let's go then! You don't want to be late today." She proceeded to stomp away.

No, I really didn't. To keep up with Jessica's brisk walk, I picked up my pace. The crowd around us was getting thicker. I trotted through, the knot in my stomach very present, but also feeling my confidence growing with each step. Look at me—my first hour at Forks High and I was already making big progress. Okay, not exactly big, but it was surely encouraging.

If only I could make myself look beyond the elusive idea of changing my whole life around, I would have realized how incredibly naive it sounded. At some point, I was bound to find out that all Renee's lessons in life would prove to be futile, as she never taught me that no great change can come without a great sacrifice.

I was destined to figure it out on my own–the hard way.

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**A/N: The quote "**_**Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé"**_** used in this chapter is from "The Little Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	3. Chapter 2 Paydirt

**A/N: Something a little different this time. **

**Thank you, lovelies, for the reviews and for those who tweet and recommend my story, my gratitude does not have limits!**

**Special thanks to my betas twitchling and Sobriquett, who not only keep my commas and English straight, but also hold my hand and pump my confidence, you rock!**

**I now have a topic created for "Sinnerman" on Twilighted forum. Come play, ask questions, have fun. The link is on my profile.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns all Twilight. I borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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**Chapter 2**

**Paydirt**

**x**

_**4 years ago**_

_**?POV**_

"It's too hot and I'm too hung-over. This headache will fucking kill me," she whined, slumping herself in the seat of my van. For the second time in the past twenty minutes I had considered stopping on the side of the road to dump this chick. But I was a patient man.

"Why can't we get Smirnoff Ice, or at least a beer?" She reached to me in attempting a kiss, smacking her lips at my ear before I could cringe away. The ringing would probably stay with me for the rest of my shitty life.

But I was a patient man, I reminded myself.

"Because we ain't got no money, baby." It sounded alright, caring enough.

I didn't give a shit about her, but my self-control was something I'd been working on for far too long to lose it on some random piece of ass I picked up at the bar a few weeks ago.

If she was smart and had paid any attention, she would've already figured it out—I hated whiners, I hated losers, and I hated the fact that I had no money. Rubbing it in my face every minute of a day wasn't gaining her any points, even though it wasn't her fault I lost all of it in a pool game the other night.

"Well, shit." She glanced at me with an accusing look and pulled a squashed green bag from the backseat. "Let's see here." She went through it. "All I have for food is Altoids. Yum." She glanced at me again, smiling tauntingly. "Do you think we can survive on that, sweets?"

I was a patient man. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.

"We'll figure something out, baby."

"Like what?" she snapped, and I gripped the wheel of the van harder, continuing the count in my head. It now sounded more like a countdown.

I couldn't suppress a growl.

"Oh well," she said quickly and slightly shifted herself away from me. "You're right, pumpkin, the day isn't over yet. But think faster, honey."

I grimaced. _Honey, Sweets, Pumpkin_. She was making me sick with these nicknames.

"Gas station, sweetie, take this exit!"

Ugh! S_weetie_. Fuck!

"Go, go, go! I need to pee!"

Of course she did. At least it was a change of a topic. Besides, some fresh air could do me some good.

I parked on the side of the gas station and jumped out, slamming the door of the van. I didn't bother to lock it up; who would be interested in that piece of shit?

She made a quick unsteady run to the side of the building, jerking the blue door of the restroom to open. It didn't budge.

"Argh, I really need to pee!" she yelled and kicked the door.

"Easy, baby, someone's probably in there," I said, coming closer. "You just need to be patient for a minute or two."

_That's right—patience!_

She rolled her eyes at me and scowled. What did _I_ do? Shit!

One Mississippi. I started a recount.

I looked around. The gas station was in the middle of nowhere, and in pathetic shape. There was just one pump, sitting next to the shabby building that looked more like a shed. The front side of the building was covered with old, vintage style, signs. I got closer to find: "Nu Icy. The flavor you can't forget", "Pepsi Cola. 5¢", and some other shit, like a rusted Ohio license plate from 1955. What the fuck was this—"Back to the Future" memorabilia storage? I checked the pump, noting that in order to pay you had to see a cashier inside.

My lady danced around the door, hissing, and I couldn't understand why it was such a big deal for girls to be inside, in the stall, to take a piss. Just go behind a tree and squat, for fucks' sakes! And it'd be good for the tree.

I decided to go into the station, knowing well that the last ten bucks in my pocket could not be spent on booze. They should, however, at least part of it, be spent on smoke. I would kill for a cigarette right now.

The door of the building opened quietly, to my surprise. What, no chime? No annoying "ta-da" to greet walking in customers? I quickly scanned the room; the spot behind the counter was empty. Anybody home?

This place had very little to offer: a stand with dusty bags of chips, beef jerky and M&Ms. Advil, tampons, Halls drops, one single-door fridge with windows so frosted in, I couldn't see the content. I opened the door to find a sparse count of Coors Light, Diet Coke and OJ. Well, goddamn, I wasn't on a diet. Not consciously, at least.

Smirnoff Ice was probably special order for this dump. They didn't even have hot coffee or donuts. Fucking god-forsaken edge of the world this place was.

"I need a cigarette," I groaned to myself. I was getting desperate.

There was still no sign of life around in the store. I spotted the coveted, and yet currently unattainable, packs and packs of smoke in the glassed stand behind the counter. It was securely locked, of course, along with the rubbers. I smirked—I could use both very, very soon, preferably at the same time. The question was, would be ten bucks enough to cover everything?

I moved closer and squinted to check the prices. A pack of Marlboro was $3.79 before tax. Fuckers. Capitalism in full bloom. I could totally buy it cheaper at Seven Eleven. Lucky Strike was $ 2.99. Piece of shit. The cheapest pack of rubbers in this place was $7.99, before tax. _Her-fucking-pleasure_ kind, as if I cared about that.

It wasn't rocket science to calculate the total in my head. I was at least a dollar eighty-one cent short, and this would leave me with no money whatsoever. So, no, that wasn't an option; I needed food to survive. Unfortunately, that would mean that I'd have to skip the fuck in a hole for a while and stick to a blow job. I rolled my eyes. I'd had worse.

"Hello?" I called out. "Need some help here!"

When no one answered, I had leaned over the counter and peered behind it. The space was dead.

I straightened up and decided to wait.

Tapped my foot.

Whistled.

Checked myself in the round-shaped security mirror—like it was needed in this shitty excuse for a convenience store—hung by the small antique TV on the wall. I was a handsome, handsome man.

And I was patient.

There were no wires hanging around the TV or the mirror. What, security cameras were too fancy for this place? I looked around again—an idea was forming in my head.

"Hello-o!" I said softly, much quieter this time. "Any fuckers here?" I asked, chuckling, because it would be hilarious if someone actually answered that.

Yep, dead. Fuckers didn't live here anymore.

And then my brain snapped. The patience was gone. I felt a rush of adrenaline pumping into my blood, quickening my breath.

Fuck the patience. I would do just fine without it this one time. No security cameras, no people around, and a deserted road in and out. It was too easy.

I looked at myself in the mirror once again and smiled, smoothing out my locks. This was going to be fun.

I slid on my side over the counter in one move, grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and jerked the cashier tray through the fabric. It was locked, as expected. I rummaged through the shelves under the counter, still using my t-shirt to cover my hand. It took a moment, but I finally found what I was looking for.

Jamming the screwdriver into the gap inside the tray right next to the lock, I heard it click. With my blood pumping in my ears, and all of my senses on overdrive, the sounds were amplified to the point that the click came off like a loud bang. I instinctively cowered, bending my head down. Shit, my adrenaline was playing tricks on me. There was still absolutely nobody around. I was safe. Snapping back up, I pulled the tray out, using the same screwdriver, not touching anything else. It opened, smoothly. A bunch of Hamiltons, Lincolns and Washingtons revealed themselves in their green glory. I loved those guys.

It didn't look like there was much but, hell, it was better than what I had when coming in here.

I had carefully pulled the bills from each section of the tray, making sure I left no finger prints, and at the same time checking the entrance door every second. I distributed the money in different pockets, getting everything out of the register, down to the last dollar.

Now I was handsome _and_ rich!

I grabbed a tissue from a Kleenex box sitting on the counter and wrapped it around a bottle of Windex I spotted underneath. Sprayed the top of the register and the counter, and wiped the surfaces dry with another tissue. Screwdriver was the last piece I cleaned. I was good!

One last order of business—the cigarettes and the rubbers... Oh, fuck that! The Plexiglas looked too thick to penetrate with bare hands. If I used anything else, it would make too much noise.

Count your blessings. Know when to exit.

I was a patient man. I could buy me whatever I needed in the next town.

The security mirror on the wall reflected a triumphant, goading face of a winner as I was running out of the store.

xxx

She was still dancing by the restroom, crossing her legs in a squat, her face almost in pain.

"Baby, it's been almost five minutes, no one is coming out. I really, really need to pee!"

Had it only been five minutes? It felt like I had spent a full sentence in that store. I could bet a Lincoln from the back of my jean pocket that the person behind the blue door would not be happy to find out they had just been robbed. Pepto-Bismol, my friend, was what you needed. You should care for the inventory of your shit-hole store better.

I laughed and grabbed her hand. "We gotta go, baby, now! I got something for us. And lemme tell you, this is worth peeing in your pants."

She looked at me like I was deranged but followed. We ran to the van, and as I drove away, I saw in the rear-view mirror a distorted picture of an old man, who was holding the handle of the open restroom's door and coming slowly outside. The picture shook with each bump on the road, but I could see the man raising his hand to his forehead, covering his face from the sun while staring in our direction. He probably was regretting the business that he just lost.

"Well, grandpa, sorry, wait until you get inside," I mumbled to myself, feeling an evil grin splitting my face.

I was a patient man, and it was finally paying off.

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**A/N: Any guesses? Feel free to share. **

**Thank you for reading.**


	4. Chapter 3 Treasure Hunt

**A/N: Have I confused you enough to want more? Good! Thank You for still being with me and reviewing. Your support and kind words mean the world to me.**

**Thanks to mopstyle and twitchling, my betas. Mop, bb, I love you, sending you tons of healing vibes! twitchling, your patience and friendship make me want to be better.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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**Chapter 3**

**Treasure Hunt**

**_BPOV_**

During my first day at Forks High, Jessica was everywhere I went, hovering and talking like a chatter box hyped up on a "5-hour energy" drink. She had talents I could only dream about. Her ability to roll eyes, blow a perfect bubble out of gum, copy class work, and text, all at the same time, was staggering. I had a ways to go and lots to learn.

By the end of the school day she had managed to invite herself to my house for the evening. She appeared at the door before I finished unpacking the groceries from shopping with Charlie. The girl was fast.

In the first half an hour she gossiped just about everyone at Forks High, and checked every corner in my room. She talked and moved around, picking up this and that, things I brought from Phoenix and things Charlie kept from those rare visits I had with him as a child. At some point she paused at my desk and began to study closely some old pictures of me. When she fell silent for unusually long time, I walked to her. She looked up, eyebrow arched, my open cosmetics bag was right in front of her nose. I knew what she spotted inside, and it wasn't the lip gloss. My heart stopped.

"Right on, chica," she said, dipping her fingers into the bag.

I snatched the bag from her just before she took out the object of my extreme embarrassment planted there by Renee. God, why didn't I throw it away in the morning?

"It's not what you think," I mumbled, closing the bag and throwing it into the desk's drawer. "I'm not..." I shut up before I could embarrass myself further.

"Who cares, Bella?" Jessica laughed. "I'm not your parent."

I snorted. If she only knew how the condom came to my possession in the first place.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" She flopped herself on the chair and stretched.

Happy we were off the painful subject, I let my guard down a little. "Um, I might need your help, actually..."

"A pet project!" she exclaimed as soon as I finished elaborating.

"Try not to get too excited," I said, freaked out by her overly ecstatic expression and already regretting my moment of honesty.

I had just admitted to a person I knew for exactly twelve hours that a lack of fashion sense in my case was borderline clinical, that I was kind of nerdy, and not the most social person in the world. To my relief, Jessica chose to ignore the second part of my confession–or so I thought.

"Stay," she commanded and positioned me in front of the window.

"Why?" I asked warily, although I didn't dare to move.

There was no response from her. The girl did not say a word; she didn't even crack a smile this time. She simply moved past me and before I could object, swiftly opened the doors of my closet.

_Dear_ _God, please help me._

I wanted to be game. I told myself to put things into perspective. Didn't I stand before these same mirrored doors just this morning, wishing there was someone to give me advice on how to become girly and pretty, if that was at all possible? I had wished for a miracle and here I was just a few hours later, getting exactly what I had asked for.

So, I zipped my mouth and quietly watched Jessica perform a thorough assessment of the contents of my closet. She pulled out every article of my clothing, snorting at some, frowning at others, and laughing out loud more often than I personally thought the outfits deserved.

In a few short minutes, Jessica had three piles of clothes on my bed. She named the piles, pointing at each: "Maybe", "Never", and "Burn". I indicated to her that it was hardly fair that she didn't find even one of my outfits acceptable.

My bold comment was clearly a mistake. Jessica cocked her head to the side and stared at me through squinted eyes.

I was trying to play unnerved, but her wry smile was creeping me out. I felt myself blush profusely.

"Do you want to hear my verdict?" Jessica asked. While talking, she loudly chewed on the gum.

She slowly stepped in my direction, holding my brown boots in both hands.

_Oh, boy._

"I'm not sure," I croaked, actually leaning towards a 'no'.

"Well, I'm going to say it anyway." Jessica took another step forward. A pink bubble grew out of her mouth, reaching the size of a golf ball.

I made one step back, feeling the window curtains swishing around my back. I felt like hiding behind them completely, though something was telling me that there was no point–I would only make the matter worse for myself.

Besides, the bubble mesmerized me.

It finally blew up with a sharp 'pop' sound. Jessica licked the bits of gum off her lips with a trained swirl of her tongue. Determination was written all over her face.

"So, this is what I think," she announced with such finality in her voice I shivered. "You're not exactly hopeless, but you're, like, a tight bud that's waiting to blossom into a beautiful swan. And it'll take a lot of work for you to reach that blooming state."

"A t-tight bud? Really, Jessica?" I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh or cry at the absurdity of her declarations.

"Absolutely, Bella-the-future-swan! Prepare to be made over."

For some reason, an image of me in the pink "Skeleton Bride" dress from the third grade Halloween party flashed before my eyes. I shuddered.

That was when Jessica dropped the boots on the floor and burst into a laugh—a shrill, yet kind of infectious laugh. I watched her half amused, half irritated.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Dude." She tried to calm down, her laughing turned into suppressed snorting. "Did you really believe I could give you some expert beauty advice? I honestly can't believe you fell for it."

Once again, Jessica stunned me. The second time in one day I was at loss of words. I just shook my head, feeling my face turning hot–I was pretty sure my ears were also on fire. My fingers twitched in her direction, itching to reach out for those annoyingly bouncy curls—to thin them out a little. But Jessica had no sense of self-preservation. She kept snorted into her hand. "Bella, you should see yourself right now, your eyes are about to pop. Can't you take a joke? Chill."

I huffed. I did have a sense of humor, thank you very much. Okay, maybe I should _chill_.

"Seriously, I'm a small-town girl; you're like from enormous city. There's no way I could know more about fashion than you, although it was nice to pretend for a while," Jessica said, her honesty disarmed me.

"But you look nice. Both your outfits I've seen so far seem to be color coordinated," I accused, waving my arms around her body.

"Matter of taste." She shrugged. "It doesn't mean I can be an example for someone else. I just know what works for me and my boobs." She giggled, playfully shaking her shoulders. I carefully avoided looking at the jiggling assets in front of me.

"Why didn't you say something right away?" I asked, still hurt I could be played so easily.

She thought for a moment before answering. "I was kind of flattered when you asked, you know? I would still love to help the best I can if you let me. I mean, I try to stay on top of current trends and whatnot. We can totally read magazines together for some beauty tips, and try them out together. Would you like that?"

"Well, you're doing better than me, obviously," I gestured at the three piles on my bed, "if you promise to never make fun of me like that again, I think we have a deal."

Jessica looked at me strangely. There was something in her eyes—surprise? Hope? Both? "You're not mad at me?"

"I guess not. Not anymore. And what do I have to lose? You've seen those boots, haven't you?"

"Oh man, yeah, those are really unfortunate." She pushed the boots under the bed, where they belonged.

We both laughed.

"So, I was thinking about going shopping for more weather appropriate clothes." I felt now was a good time to ask. "And I really need something cuter than–"

"Say no more, sista!" Jessica interrupted me enthusiastically. "We totally have some shopping to do. I have a question for you, though." She frowned, looking at me. "Would you drive?"

"How far?" I asked.

"Port Angeles."

"I don't think Charlie would object."

"When do you want to go?"

"Um, tomorrow after school?"

"You're on!"

With those words, Jessica did a quick jittery dance (or more like a run in one spot), kicking her legs and arms, and scaring the living hell out of me with the level of her excitement. She then dropped herself down on my bed with a contented sigh, right on the piles of clothes she had sorted, and spread her hands and legs up and down, moving like she was drawing an angel in a mass of fabric. She looked so at ease, even though she barely knew me and it was her very first visit to this house. This was while I myself still wasn't comfortable here. And yet, Jessica appeared so clearly happy–with her eyes closed and a small smile playing on her lips. She started to hum some unpretentious melody, and for the hundredth time that day, I felt a pang of envy– it looked so easy to appreciate the small things, to take pleasure in simple occasions. Why couldn't I be like that?

"So," Jessica half-opened one eye, glanced at me, and closed it again, "are you gonna tell me what your deal is?"

"My deal?" I repeated dumbly.

"Yeah, you know, what's up with you avoiding people? What's your issue?"

"I don't have any _issues_," I hissed, hating how defensive I sounded and cursing myself inwardly for being so obvious.

"Come on, Bella, we are practically sisters, you can talk to me." Jessica rolled to the side and propped herself up on her elbow, digging into my favorite Gap sweatpants.

"Sisters, my ass," I mumbled.

"Speak up, Bella, I can't hear you." Jessica waved her hand, egging me on.

I shook my head. "You won't give up, will you?"

"Why would I?" She sat up and started bouncing on the bed. "I live for this kind of shit. Actually, you don't seem too messed up to me, just kind of uptight, I guess. But that can be fixed." She was smiling so sincerely I wanted to believe I didn't have to worry about her running to her friends tomorrow and making me the laughing stock of Forks High.

"By the way," she said, "since you're on the nerdy side, I could use some tutoring in Biology and Math. You could take me under you wing."

Oh, there were incentives in the offer.

I smiled. The trade seemed only fair.

I started gathering my clothes from the bed, chewing on my lip. Still in thought, I yanked the Gap pants from under her. I had to make a decision whether I wanted to trust this person.

"You know, Jessica, from your stammering during today's Bio, I sense you'd be a challenge too," I told her, smirking.

"Oh, totally! I promise to be uncooperative, lazy, and a royal pain on your ass. You will have a ton of fun smacking me around," she agreed readily.

She made it impossible to turn her down, and I finally accepted my fate.

With my arms full, I sat on the bed next to her and started talking, while looking at my new friend's reflection in the closet mirror. For some reason, it was easier to let the words out when I wasn't facing her directly.

At first, my words were tentative. I spoke about my life in Phoenix, about my decision to come live with Charlie, how much I was missing my mom, the sunny skies, and even Phil.

I lowered my voice to a loud whispering, finally turning to face Jessica. "But if you ever say anything to Charlie, I will cheerfully beat you to death."

"Ugh, Bella, I'm not exactly in love with my family at the moment either. I mean, you seem kind of grounded for a big-city girl, you know? Besides, show me one teen who isn't a hormonal spaz at seventeen."

How she could tease and assure me at the same time was beyond me, but her last words broke the dam. So, I started to really talk. I admitted to her about feeling bland and boring most of my life, told her about my struggle to relate to other people, and how much I wanted to fit in better. Finally, I confessed about my hope to find real friends here in new town.

Jessica made an attempt to hug me, and though I knew it was simply a friendly gesture, nothing–even the promise to transform me into a beautiful swan made earlier–could bring me to get this close to her. How would you tell the person you were trying to form a bond with that any _touchy-feely_ part was likely never to enter the equation?

Jessica was more perceptive than I was giving her credit for. She raised her hands in understanding, while I was giving her an apologetic smile. "Like I said–uptight–but can be fixed."

"That's right, get on with it!" I laughed. I threw the Gap pants, still in my hands, into the closet and shut the door. This time when I looked at myself in the big mirror, I was met by a pleasant looking girl. She still needed help with fixing her unruly mop of hair, but her big smile said she had hope.

xxx

The next several weeks were spent in a blur. Jessica had attached herself to my hip, and was introducing me to others as "Bella, my best friend".

It excited and bothered me. The students at school accepted me with a surprising ease. I was greeted by Jessica's friends Angela Weber (shy, smart, quiet), Lauren Malory (pretty, popular, loud), Ben Chaney (reserved, geeky, short), and Tyler Crowley (um, likes football?). I tried my hardest to smile and speak back when addressed. I weathered polite banters and invasive questions. I was introduced to what seemed like half of Forks, and possibly the entire teenage population of the town. It was scary, it was strange, and it was overwhelming. I was afraid to admit, but I was reaching my capacity in absorbing more names, faces, and emotions.

I ran out of money after our very first trip to Port Angeles and had to go to Charlie and ask for an allowance. He raised his eyebrow, questioning my request. I mumbled–turning red and wringing my wrists–that I really, really needed more new clothes and some shoes, but my funds were severely depleted.

"Charlie, I'll be good. I'm not an impulsive shopper or anything like that."

I realized I was starting to sound a lot like Jessica, which was understandable–I was spending a ton of time with that girl. It was a high price to pay–losing your eloquence over a nice dress and earrings, but feeling like a normal teenager for the first time in my life was liberation in itself. I didn't mind making a few minor sacrifices.

Charlie chuckled at me, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he smiled. His entire face transformed. Looking at him, I thought that he, at barely over forty years old, was still a young man, and I wondered why he had stayed single all these years.

"Well now, honey, I'm sure we can work something out, and—" He looked at me briefly, his eyes moved and steadied at something above my head before he uncomfortably shifted in his place and returned his gaze back to my face. "Can you please call me Dad?" he asked.

He wasn't forcing or guilt-tripping me. The soft expression on his face told me he was simply asking. It was not something that could be gained by providing an allowance or a car. I didn't have the right words to explain that regarding him as Charlie was an old habit—and a necessity. For years I'd been identifying him by his name deliberately, avoiding building a connection where I accepted there couldn't be a permanent one. It made it easier to live with the fact that I came from a broken home. Asking him for money was a hundred times more embarrassing because of that. It was so bad for me that I had first sworn to myself, and now to him, that I would find a job very shortly so I wasn't a burden.

"Bells, it's a good idea for you to find something to do that pays. But not because I'm short on cash and can't afford you. I think it'd be good for your independence."

There was nothing profound in his words, nothing I didn't know or didn't want for myself already, but it took my appreciation of him to another level. I could see why Renee had called me "your father's daughter". Remembering it, a sense of pride swelled inside me, making my chest tighten. Charlie avoided eye contact with me, and I was overcome with the urge to comfort him, as if he needed it. But hugging him, for some reason, didn't feel right. He would know I could see right through him, and _his_ pride would get hurt. So, I just stood where I was, feeling mushy and uneasy, trying not give in to the urge to go to him.

Charlie, the smart man he was, just sighed, giving me a sad smile, and awkwardly patted the top of my head on his way out of my room.

"I will leave the money on the kitchen table tomorrow morning," he said without turning to me as he reached the door.

By the time the words "thank you, dad," had left my mouth, Charlie was out the door and probably out of the hearing range. I would have to try better next time.

xxx

The shopping trips were exhausting, as Jessica was relentless. She insisted on trying everything available in our sizes in every store she dragged me into: dresses, skirts, tops, jeans, shoes. She knew no mercy while we could barely afford a fraction of it.

With her help I discovered that there were at least a dozen types of bras—push-up, padded, lace, sheer, underwire… My head was swimming. And at all times, for the sake of my future love life, I was to steer clear of "barely there" types.

"We want them to _suspect_ what's there, Bella! Give them a tease, so to speak," Jessica recited whenever she broached the subject.

"But I thought the idea was to keep them guessing," I protested, as ever uncomfortable discussing anything around my chestly assets.

"That's so nineteenth century," my friend retorted with a roll of her eyes. "The rules of the game have changed, you need to keep up."

It was a questionable statement. But keep up I tried. It was a "one step forward, two steps back" kind of a process, and the entertainment part of it was fading away quickly.

I refused to try on anything pink. Jessica refused to let me keep my Crocks.

She worked hard; I had to give it to her. It was good to have a supporter along the way, though I often asked myself why she was so vested in my transformation, and I probably should've been doing more for myself. Or at least drop the mockery act I used with her all the time, even though she pretended not to notice. It was me who wanted a change, after all. As it was, my progress was indeed very slow.

I still preferred reading to anything else. During lunches I continued to keep my head down, nibbled on my food, and stayed quiet. In response, Jessica introduced me to the entire baseball, football and, I believed, swimming teams–one guy at a time–while she monitored our interactions intently and made comments later. She was full of suggestions; for instance, she told me I should open Facebook and Twitter accounts.

I was apprehensive, having no desire to share my life with the world, or to be stuck with handful of people on some social network, which would be an evidence of how many (or little) friends I had made so far.

Jessica was still determined to pull me out of my shell, and the only reason I kept playing along was because I was afraid of failing at my own mission.

Biology and Math tutoring were a big joke, of course. Explaining Jessica anything not related to boys, horoscopes in "Seventeen," or Hollywood gossip was as futile as teaching a bear a Riverdance. On numerous occasions, she had declared she'd rather die a virgin than study another formula, and I learned quickly about her plans _not to _stay a virgin beyond her Junior year. Jessica had her eyes on the perfect candidate to introduce her to womanhood. Then again, the candidate was blissfully unaware of said plans–probably due to her acting like a complete _hormonal spaz _around him. Yep, Jessica had a crush, his name was Mike Newton, and I had to hear about him daily.

I'd only lived in Forks for two months and already I was exhausted. I started avoiding her nightly texts offering to meet for a quick Youtube tutorial on doing "smoky eyes", and instead hid at the library whenever I could.

Charlie was ecstatic. I even overheard him on the phone about how well I seemed to be adjusting, and how easily I appeared to make friends. He brimmed with pride; how could I disappoint him?

Besides, I did like Jessica. I really did. I expected her to give up on me after my first week at Forks, but she didn't. Yes, she was pushy, but because of her I didn't feel completely alone in a strange new town. Jessica's quirky sense of humor was refreshing and I appreciated her presence, knowing that otherwise I would probably be stuck in my bedroom or with Charlie and ESPN every night, and that wasn't much of a change for me, was it? I just had to accept the fact she wasn't the best listener, she couldn't help her overbearing ways, and she loved the spotlight. We couldn't be more different, and yet somehow we were making it work. There was only one small problem—Jessica seemed to know exactly what she wanted, while I still had no clue who I was.

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**A/N: Well, she's trying. How it's going to turn out is anyone's guess. Do you have a good feeling about it?**

**Thank you for reading.**


	5. Chapter 4 Going South

**A/N: Thank you for leaving your thoughts for me. They are always appreciated! And ahhh, yes, he is coming soon, a little patience, bbs! :)**

**Thank you, my betas: the magical mopstyle, and the ever sensitive to what I am trying to say and patient to my ramblings twitchling. Sobriquett who made me feel like a winner after helping me with this chapter, and revrag, who never stops egging me on about anything "M" rated. Books, love you.**

**Thank you to warehab for all the love and support, you had been and continue to be my life-line!**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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**Chapter 4**

**Going South**

**_BPOV_**

Forks idea of March weather did not differ dramatically from what I experienced two months ago when I first arrived. It was only a few degrees warmer, raining almost every day. The trees were still naked, with last year's dead leaves peeking through the slowly melting ice. And though there was barely any evidence of spring, the subtle changes were already there—harsh lines and wintry grays were vanishing and being slowly replaced by softer contours and brighter tones.

The changes in nature could be considered negligible to some. But to me, as I was so hungry for the transformation myself and looked for any indication of it, the signs were undeniably there. The promise of something new, fresh, and exciting in the air was reaching in and stretching out my lungs. That feeling was never this strong for me in Phoenix. This year it was pulsing inside me, rushing impatiently through my veins, making me long for something yet to come, the unknown I was anxious to find and make mine.

By spring, Charlie and I had developed a comfortable routine. We still weren't big on talking but spent fair amount of time watching TV together. We also shopped at the local supermarket once a week. He occasionally brought his friends over for dinner. I cooked.

I wanted to make updates around the house, starting with ugly fixture in the bathroom and repainting our bedrooms. He resisted, I insisted. One could say we were _bonding_.

Charlie kept his word about the allowance. He never asked me how I spent it, but I developed a habit of keeping all the receipts, in case he decided to ask. On one of those days, when I came down for breakfast, I found no money waiting on the table. Instead, lying there unassumingly was a shiny plastic card. And there was a note attached, "This is more convenient. Make sure to swipe it wisely, kiddo."

My heart soared when I checked the card. It was_ Visa,_ and it had _my_ name on it. Oh, Charlie... He had never mentioned even thinking about getting one for me. From the little I knew about how the system worked, he had probably co-signed for me, taking a risk of ruining his credit if I messed up. My father's trust in me meant more than I could express in words, and I wanted to be worthy of it.

Nevertheless, the new card was burning my fingers—it had to be tested. An idea floated in my head while I was activating the card and listening to the promotional speech of the automated assistant: I wanted to go to Port Angeles, except I wanted to go by myself and not for shoe shopping.

I longed for something else—books. Renee had already sent me several boxes of my favorites from my much-missed collection in Phoenix, but between that and the meager variety offered by local library, I was left completely unsatisfied.

I already understood Jessica and I had very little in common, which for me proved monumental. Most importantly, she had absolutely no interest in reading. I had made many attempts to fuel her curiosity, bringing up the classics and more modern titles. In some cases, I trivialized the stories for the sake of gaining her interest, going as far as bringing up so-called 'chick lit books'. My efforts had zero effect on my friend, however.

"Jess, you weep like a baby every time you watch _The Notebook_; do you even know it's based on the novel?"

Jessica pretended to be taking a call. I gave her a mean stare.

"Oh, come on!" She lowered the phone, rolling her eyes. "Dude! Seriously, quit pimping your 'Bella Swan Book Club' to me," she moaned. "I know what you are trying to do, and I appreciate it. But puh-lease, no!"

How could you argue with that?

I went on my first solo trip to Port Angeles the day after getting a credit card—neither of which I mentioned to Jessica, although it wouldn't take a genius to know there'd be consequences for such treacherous behavior.

xxx

It was strange, coming to Port Angeles on my own, as if I was sneaking around. As if I wasn't my own person and couldn't do whatever I pleased with my free time.

I felt better as soon as I found what I was looking for—a boutique-like book shop on 1st Street, just a couple of blocks away from the bay. I spotted it a few weeks ago, but being towed around by Jessica, there was no chance in heaven she'd agree to spend any time there.

Stepping into the store, I recognized a distinct smell of paper, dust, and candy, which reminded me of my visits to the bookstores with Renee when I was a kid. I smiled—the combination of those smells and the intimate atmosphere of the place instantly made me feel at home there; this was where I belonged.

The candy stand was right at the front. Blow pops, oh, how I missed thee. I lovingly ogled the variety, spotting my favorite kind—strawberry. Grabbing two for good measure, I fifty cents at the counter and moved to the aisles with books. Forget shoe shopping, this was my kind of fun!

I spent next several hours browsing around and reading through random titles. Before I realized, the daylight was gone, and I had to get going if I didn't want to make Charlie worry.

I made a beeline to the counter with the only item I chose to buy this time. Swiping my brand new card and signing—"Bella M. Swan"—on the display of the credit card machine made me feel incredibly powerful and joyous. It didn't matter that all I bought was a used paperback copy of John Steinbeck. I still couldn't wait to brag to Charlie about my very first purchase as an adult.

But it turned out it wasn't Charlie who had been waiting for me back at home. As I approached the house a little over an hour later, I noticed that the windows were still dark. I breathed a sigh of relief—this gave me an extra few minutes to get dinner ready. Stepping out of my truck, I removed my bags and faced the house. The porch was unlit, and I noted to myself to remind Charlie to change the bulb in the outdoor light.

It was eerily quiet and completely dark, making me hypersensitive and jumpy.

Forks was a small town with a low crime rate; there was no reason for me not to feel safe there. Besides, who would dare to hurt the daughter of the Chief of the Police? Still, Charlie deemed it necessary to give me the lessons on self-defense. He also never stopped reminding me that the Swan family has a reputation to maintain in this town.

Walking briskly to the door, I had retrieved the keys to unlock it when I thought I heard a noise behind me. I froze. Everything Charlie taught me about how to act in extreme situations came rushing to my mind: I was supposed to either back-out, de-escalate, or use self-defense, depending on circumstances_. But which one was it now?_

I heard the steps approaching me, and already managed to insert the key into the lock when I heard a loud, "Freeze!"

I turned, and without thinking, lashed out with my elbow—hitting the person squarely in the face. There was a muted "umph" and then a shrieking cry.

"Shit! Bella, what's wrong with you? It was a joke!"

_Mother of all that was Holy!_

"Jessica, is that you?"

"Of course it's me! Who else would it be?" Jessica's muffled weep made my heart stop. "Shit, I think you broke my nose. Ow, ow, ow!"

"Oh, crap, Jess! I'm so, so sorry! Let's get inside, please. We'll check it out."

I was finally able to unlock the door and rushed stumbling Jessica into the house. She was holding her face up, covering it with the palm of her hand. _Oh no, let there be no blood, please!_

Once inside, and before shutting the door, I looked out again, squinting my eyes into the dark. It was completely quiet with no sign of any life. Leave it to me to turn a harmless situation into an attack.

I hurried to the kitchen, dragging Jessica with me, and switching the lights on as I went. I turned the water on at the sink.

"Let me see." I tried to remove her hand from her face. She hesitantly pulled it away. Her nose was slightly red but clean, with no sign of injury.

"Is it broken?" she asked, sniffling.

"I can't say. Can you touch it? Careful." There was no way I would do that myself. I'd done enough harm already.

"I need a mirror," Jessica said in a whiny voice. "In my purse."

I hastily searched in her purse and handed her a compact case with a mirror.

Jessica gave me a heavy, accusing look before opening the case and taking her time checking for any injuries.

"Any dents in the pretty façade?" I asked, trying to lighten up the situation, since it didn't seem as bad as it appeared at first.

"You are such a crack up." She glared.

I sighed. Yes, yes, I couldn't help it. Even in a situation where I clearly was to blame, I found a way to be a little sarcastic. It wasn't very nice of me.

"You're not yelling at me, and there are no tears," I defended myself. To be more attentive, I opened the freezer and grabbed the icepack, handing it to her.

"Would you like me to start now?" She tucked the mirror away in her purse and took the icepack from me. She applied it to her nose, also somehow managing to eye the paper bag from the book store I was still holding.

"Um, let's not," I asked, thinking about hiding the bag behind my back and retreating from the kitchen all together.

_Hello, meet Bella_—_a big, fat, yellow chicken..._

I was, quite possibly, incurable.

Then it occurred to me.

"Jess," I said, "do you want to tell me why you decided to sneak up on me? What were you doing there in the dark?"

"What was _I_ doing? I was worried. I called you and left messages!" my friend bellowed, but it was somewhat overdone. Her offensive posture, her overly loud voice—it was all a little too much, even for Jessica.

"Oh, yes…" I pulled my phone out of the pocket. Too late I remembered I'd put it on the silent mode at the bookstore and didn't turn it back on.

"Are you gonna tell me where you'd been all afternoon?" Jessica-the-inquisitor was back.

I stepped outside the kitchen to finally take off my jacket in the foyer and put the paper bag down. She shadowed me. I had a feeling she didn't want to miss an opportunity to check what was in that bag.

As I went back to the kitchen, she stayed in the foyer.

"Spill, girlfriend. Where were you?" she demanded from there.

"Are you hungry? What do you feel like eating?" I called out, opening the fridge, fully aware I had ignored her question.

I heard her huff; a soft rustling of the bag confirmed my surmise—she wanted to know my afternoon whereabouts. How well I knew my friend already.

"I just ate. Did you go to Port Angeles?" Jessica's voice suddenly sounding very close made me flinch; she appeared to be standing right outside of the fridge door.

I wasn't going to lie again.

"Yes, I did," I said, looking at her briefly. I pushed the door of the fridge with my elbow—my arms were full with the groceries.

"You could've told me," she muttered, sitting down, and poked the icepack she left on the table earlier with one finger. She looked like her feelings were hurt.

It made me feel guilty, but this "Bella, the pet project" business was getting old.

"I wanted to go alone this time," I admitted.

"Alone?"

"Yes."

She blinked a few times, and then stared at me, bemused.

"So, let me get this straight," she said sharply. "You went to Port Angeles all by yourself, just like that?"

I groaned. This was going to be a long evening.

"Yes. Why is it so hard to believe?"

I moved to the stove and turned on the burner under the pan. Jessica had gone quiet and was now drawing invisible circles on the table. We finally met each other eyes.

"Looks like our Bella wants her spine back," she said with a wry smile.

_Ouch._

"Bite me, Jessica," I snapped back, squaring my shoulders. What was her problem? "So I went out on my own, what's the problem?"

She appraised my posture in one glance and backpedaled, "No, no, that's totally cool."

"Cool, then." I nodded. At least there was something we saw eye-to-eye on.

I turned back to the stove, welcoming the silence that followed our awkward conversation.

"Can I still count on you once in a while, when I can't have my mom's car?" Jessica's voice interrupted my thoughts; she sounded unsure, almost pleading.

"Jess, come on." Feeling terrible in an instant, I moved to grab her hand but stopped myself. It didn't feel right. "It's not like we're breaking up or something."

"Crisis averted." Jessica chuckled humorously. "Bella still likes me."

"Don't be silly, of course I do. You're my friend. I just think there are things I have to figure out on my own."

"Pfft, you and your mission statements." She waved at me dismissively.

"I mean it," I insisted, placing a plate with the grilled cheese sandwich in front of her. "Stop hovering so much."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" she asked, not touching the plate.

"You are the one who stalks me." I forced a laugh.

She didn't seem to like my remark and started to say something, but we both were distracted by the sound of gravel crunching under the car's tires outside—my father was finally home. Thank goodness; this conversation was going downhill fast. I placed another plate with food on the table and went to greet him.

"Evening." Charlie looked rumpled and tired.

Jessica chose this moment to leave. She walked by us, mumbling a meek greeting, which prompted a questioning look from Charlie. I shrugged in response.

"Hey, Jess," I called when she reached for the door.

She stopped; her shoulders moved slightly up before she turned to face me.

I said, "I'm planning to go to Port Angeles on Saturday morning. Wanna come with?"

In a way, I was challenging her. She would either accept our new status, or it wouldn't work at all. There was a moment of hesitation. It was so small, I was sure Charlie didn't notice. But _I _did. Jessica looked from me to Charlie, and her cheeks spread into a smile.

"Chief Swan, it's official—your daughter is a shopaholic," she declared, exaggerating a sigh.

Charlie broke out in a hearty laugh. She joined him, snickering loudly. When she glanced at me, the glint in her eyes told me we were still on.

"Miss Stanley, should I trust you to keep my daughter in check?"

"Sure, Chief Swan, you can trust me, I have years of experience—"

"But no car," I interrupted, "so you're still at my mercy."

She snorted and stuck her tongue out at me. Playful Jessica was back, and I was glad.

"Jess, you sure you don't want to stay and study?" I asked her, because her reaction was priceless.

"No, no," she squeaked. "I have plans tonight. Bye!"

She was out the door just when I started to laugh.

"You two seem to be getting along really well," noted Charlie, taking his shoes off and heading to the kitchen.

"Yeah, we need each other," I replied vaguely, following his steps. Nodding to the plate with the dinner, I sat down on the chair where Jessica had been a few minutes ago.

I rested my chin on the palms of my hands and watched my father move around the room before he settled down. It was the same routine, every single evening. There was a certain comfort and complacency in Charlie's movements. Every step had a purpose—nothing extra—no fumbling around, no searching through cupboards or unsure pausing. Was that how I would want to end up in twenty years? Comfortable, efficient, and simple? Was that who I wanted to be—established and… bored?

"So, Bells, how was your day? Sold any more hamsters at the store?" Charlie asked, picking up the sandwich from the plate.

"Um, no. It was my day off. By the way," I beamed, remembering, "look what I bought using my new credit card today." I brought the bag with my purchase and handed it to him.

He peeked inside. "A used book, huh? That's all?"

"I'm going for a _real_ shopping with Jessica on Saturday, remember?" I grimaced, not hiding I wasn't thrilled with the prospect.

"Have fun, Bells." Charlie snorted softly; a warm smile lit his face.

"Really? You're not worried at all?"

"About what? The money?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm not. Besides, there's a credit limit, which can hardly break my bank," he assured me with a cackle and grabbed the sandwich again, preparing for another bite.

"Limits are good, I guess." I agreed, hiding a smile.

My father was there for me; he wasn't going to let me fall.

xxx

You'd think that after seeing your face in the morning and finding a shiner under your eye, you'd want to bring it up with the attacker and blame them properly.

Not Jessica.

In fact, the moment I saw her in the hall the next day at school and tried to apologize again, for, well... sucker-punching her, she interrupted me and started talking about some random topic, such as level of hotness of Chris Pine. She also adamantly ignored the stares, and during lunch cooked up a story about accidentally walking into the door. Oo-okay... I really didn't mind telling people the truth and taking a beating for it. Figuratively speaking, of course.

So my mad karate skills were not up for discussion. That was strange, but I didn't push, accepting our new "Don't ask, don't tell" policy. The policy had major flaws, but it worked for us. Maybe it was because I wasn't rushing to come clean about my new credit card; or maybe, because Jessica decided the reasons for her sneaking up on me were better left unknown.

There was one positive outcome of that unpleasant evening. We made some important changes to our previous agreement: she negotiated cutting down on tutoring sessions, while I requested limiting our shopping trips together. Redefining any relationship isn't easy, but sometimes necessary. We both seemed relieved. And when the time came to reveal my new form of payment, I simply bribed Jessica by buying her a hair band she had really wanted. Why hadn't I thought of it before?

My favorite place on 1st Street was always waiting. I started visiting it by myself and even participated in some local events hosted at the shop.

By the end of April, Jessica and I were a lot more relaxed. She had returned to hanging out with her other friends, and while I did become a permanent fixture in the same circle, I decidedly fell shy of making it as Forks' most prominent socialite. And I was okay with it.

Jessica, however, wasn't ready to give up on me yet.

"So, Rob Sawyer was asking about you today." She had plopped herself on a chair during lunch. "And he…"

She retrieved a mirror and began checking her teeth. I was watching her with an undying fascination. Why anyone would be worrying about the cleanliness of their teeth right before eating was beyond my comprehension.

"Bella, did you hear what I just said?"

"I'm sorry, who what?" I tried to replay in my mind her last few words and failed.

"Rob. The tall, cute, blond guy. I have a Spanish class with him," she explained to me with uncharacteristic patience. "He was asking if you were available. Oh, he's looking at you right now!" She lowered her voice to a whisper as she bent over to my side.

"Don't look!" I hissed back. "Stop embarrassing me!"

"Jesus Christ, you're doing it again!" She pushed the tray with the food away from herself. The sound of plastic hitting the table reverberated so loudly the people nearby started glancing at us.

"Shhh, Jess!" I demanded. "People think we're fighting!"

"Who cares." She shrugged but leaned closer to me. "Listen, he's a really nice guy, and is totally into you."

I wished I could say the same. I had no idea who that guy was, and there was no prize in the world that could make me look at him right now. But I didn't want to tick Jessica off further.

"Sawyer, you said?" I asked, as if it would make any difference.

"Yeah, you know, like _Tom Sawyer_." In a moment of brilliancy, Jessica remembered a character from a fifth grader's book.

It was actually quite funny—her endless attempts to get me interested in someone. She was getting creative.

"You're referencing Mark Twain," I said with a smile. "I am blown away."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, smartass. Are you going to talk to the guy? Is there a chance for, like, a date?" She winked.

"I'm sensing it's inevitable." I was tired of dodging her; one date wouldn't kill me.

"_Oh. My. God!_" Jessica exclaimed, her eyes bugging out in disbelief. "Sawyer is about to make history at Forks High!"

"What?" I wasn't sure what this was about, but I was certain everyone in the cafeteria was looking at us. "Could you please be quiet?" I begged.

"There are speculations and bets, Bella! For months now!"

"On?"

"On who will be the one to go out with you, silly!" Jessica seemed ecstatic, barely able to contain herself.

_Why_? Why was I always the last one to know? And why did I always get sucked into Jessica's games?

"Oh, no. No, no, no, and no!" I got up, shaking my head and gathering my things quickly. "No deal. No Sawyer."

"Oh, man. I should've kept my mouth shut." Jessica sighed. "It was too good to be true. I knew you'd never go for it."

"Why is it so important to you?" I asked.

"It's supposed to be important to _you,_" she responded hotly.

"Alright, Jess." I sighed in defeat. "Tell the guy I'll go on a date with him."

"And you won't back out of it later?" My friend knew me too well.

I couldn't lie. "We'll see."

"Are you ever going to say yes to any of the boys in town, Bella? I'm out of excuses for you, you know."

"Is it that time of the week to bug me about it, again?" I joked.

"Argh, forget it!"

I sighed. "Don't be mad at me, Jess. I don't have the answer. I guess it's the same old story—I don't seem to click with anyone here. They all seem so... juvenile."

"You mean, you're into older dudes?" Jessica smirked.

"I don't know, I haven't thought about it much." I started to blush. Please, no.

"Uh-huh. Have you thought about it any?" Jessica liked to torture me. She prepped her elbows on the table and placed her chin on her hands, waiting for an answer.

"I know what I'm looking for isn't here," I mumbled.

"Are you sure you've been looking?." She grabbed an apple from the tray and bit into it with a loud crunch. "Either way, you won't know until you try," she said with her mouth full and sighed.

"Try what?"

"Oh, how I wish I could try." She glanced at the next table where Mike Newton was throwing grapes at Tyler.

_Gag._

"Please don't start again," I begged, groaning. "No more Newton talk today."

"It's serious for me." Jessica scowled. "You know, Bella, just you wait. Your time will come, and you won't know what hit you. We will talk then."

I wouldn't admit it out loud, but I wished she was right.

xxx

"There's going to be a pre-Memorial Day sale. Bella, please, we have to make it!"

"Memorial Day isn't for another two weeks."

"So? There's a sale already!"

I groaned, knowing there was absolutely no way I could get out of it this time—major Holiday sales were sacred. I dreaded it, but when the day came—exceptionally sunny and pleasant—I found myself looking forward to our trip.

We parked my Chevy away from the mall, just like I preferred, and headed to the street mall.

"You know, I like the smell of this new gloss," I confessed, as I pulled the tube to apply some more. "It's not overpowering and makes me feel kinda pretty." Did I just say that? I was in _that_ good of a mood.

"_Now_ you are talking. Did you forget I almost paid for it myself before you agreed to buy it?"

I smiled, slightly ashamed. If I wanted to avoid more teasing I probably shouldn't be mentioning how I also secretly loved my blue strappy shoes. The shape of the platform was unusual, they made me taller, and I felt surprisingly comfortable in them.

I was doing it; it was working. Jessica had reason to be proud.

"By the way, this blue jacket looks really good on you, too," Jessica commented, as if she was reading my thoughts. "But I wish you went for those patent pumps instead."

"Don't push it, girlfriend," I warned. But I didn't really mean it—I had already learned to appreciate pretty little things like matching shoes, belts, and purses. 'Seventeen' could be insightful sometimes. And so could be Jessica, at least when it came to outfit coordination business.

"So, Bella." She followed me into the book store while talking. "I'll be out and about. Text me if anything—"

"Jess, I know the routine very well, just go." I grabbed my favorite strawberry pop from the counter and saluted the girl at the cashier. All of them already knew me here. I would pay later.

The entire front part of the store was filled with light, which was contributing to my already cheerful mood. I couldn't understand it, but I had this strange feeling of anticipation. Something great was about to happen, and I was looking forward to meeting it head on.

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**A/N: Next chapter is EPOV.**

**Thank you for reading. I hope you review.**


	6. Chapter 5 Golden

**A/N: The support and love I have received this week is overwhelming. Thank you, thank you!**

**mopstyle and twitchling, my lovely betas, thank you for being here for me. Allysue08, Rags88, thank you for pre-reading this chapter. **

**Thanks to maxipoo1024 and Books.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns all Twilight. I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Golden**

_**EPOV**_

Jasper pulled the last drag from his cigarette and flicked it to the wall. One step ahead of him, I was already entering the book store, not bothering to hold the door for him. I wasn't particularly happy, considering the circumstance.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" I asked, barely turning my head.

"I do," Jasper responded, still following me. "But first I need some change."

"Jasper," I tried to stay calm, "we had an agreement. You asked me to give you a lift to town. I did. Now, fucking please..." I pointed to the door.

The whole purpose of this trip to Port Angeles was for me to get away from my family. Then Jasper decided to tag along. Saying no to him meant upsetting Alice, and none of us liked to deal with an upset Alice. Jasper knew it all too well.

"Relax, E. I'll get the change for the meter and go."

"Parking's free around here."

"It's not free where I'm going."

"You came in my car, remember? It's not your problem."

"Right. So, here's the deal, E." Jasper stopped next to me as I paused to look around the store. "I need your car."

Of course. I _knew_ he had another agenda.

"What was wrong with taking yours?"

"I don't plan to drive home tonight."

I frowned at him. "Does Alice know about your grand overnight plans? And how am I supposed to get back home?"

"Stop munching on my ass. I need the car to take care of some business in town, just for a few hours. When I'm done, I plan to drive to the Landing mall. They serve good beer. I'd like to chill tonight."

"Chill?" I cocked my head to the side. I never heard of Landing mall. "You mean, you plan on getting tanked while I'm left here without any transportation?" That was priceless.

"The Landing is a walking distance from here. I'll shoot you the address later. You'll come to pick me up and drive us home."

"Do I look like your fucking chauffeur?"

Like I said—Jasper was a selfish prick.

"Don't get worked up over nothing, brother. Five more minutes, and I'll be out of your hair, just like you wanted. All I need is the car now and for you to pick me up later—much later. I think it's a fair deal." He looked at me, smirking.

When I didn't respond he said, "So, what do you prefer? All day with me..." he pointed at himself "...or all day without me." He pointed at me.

What I preferred was to be free of constant emotional fucking blackmail, but that wasn't an option. Jasper was excellent at leaving no choices.

"With me..." he mouthed with his finger back on himself.

Oh, for fuck's sake!

"You've got five minutes." I shoved the car keys at his chest. "Time's already ticking."

"I'm on it." Jasper smiled. Of course he smiled; he got what he wanted—again.

"Let's do this, shall we?" He deposited the car keys into his pocket, pulled a dollar bill out and tugged it from both ends with a snap. "Now, watch the Master."

"Of bullshit," I muttered, watching him smooth his greasy hair behind his ears and pull up the collar of his jacket with a quick flick of his thumbs.

He walked to the counter and cleared his throat calling for the cashier's attention. A geeky-looking girl in thick glasses shot her head up and smiled back at Jasper. "Oh, sorry. What can I do for you?"

"I can think of a few things." Jasper's grin grew wide, soliciting a blush from the poor girl.

I tapped nonexistent watch on my wrist. "Four minutes," I reminded him quietly.

Jasper showed me a finger under the table.

"Three," I said, looking him square in the eye.

A small snorting noise came from behind me. On instinct, I turned to the sound and spotted a girl a few feet away from us, standing half-turned. She was biting her lip while looking straight ahead of her, checking the newsstand. A faint blush and carefully arranged expression on her face told me she overheard us. What was _she_ blushing about? She wasn't the one acting juvenile.

The girl exhaled as if she held her breath for too long and bent over slightly to study the cover of some magazine and it was my turn to hold my breath. What did they call those? Skinny jeans? The girl was definitely slim but filled out in just the right places. She straightened back up, to my dismay, and I noticed a yellow notepad in her hand. It was covered with writing. That reminded of the times when I used to carry one, too—except I preferred them white. That was a long time ago.

I was about to turn back to Japser when the girl's phone beeped. She dropped the notepad on the top of the backpack at her feet and quickly typed something; her bottom lip was back between her teeth. I watched as the pink tip of her tongue darted out in a licking motion and disappeared again. The notepad was brought up again, and she began to study the content of it intently, her lips moving as she read.

Sudden smile flashed across her face, and she made a soft, snorting sound with her throat, similar to one that drew my attention to her in the first place. I realized then that it wasn't my conversation with Jasper that she found so amusing earlier, her reaction was probably to whatever was written in that notepad.

I felt a slight pang of annoyance, although the feeling wasn't exactly rational. But really, what could be so interesting there that she wouldn't acknowledge a not-so-unfortunate-looking guy standing right next to her?

Her phone went off again. She checked the screen and snickered, shaking her head. From the angle I was standing at, I could only see her from her side. Jasper was still jabbering on about something to the cashier, who was red as a beet. Subtly, I shifted away from him and leaned back to get a better view of the girl.

Her jeans clung to her tightly, showcasing a perky little butt. She had the most flawless pair of legs—long, slender and perfectly straight—and I allowed myself to imagine how it would feel to sneak my hand in between them and move along their length. It was extremely fucking wrong of me to want to touch a strange girl in the most intimate of places. Not that I'd never been engaged in carnal activities with someone I barely knew before, but for whatever strange reason, it seemed wrong this time. Realizing I enjoyed the view of her curvy behind for a little too long, I shifted my focus to study her face.

She had a very delicate profile: flitting, dark lashes, a straight nose line, bright red lips that contrasted with her pale smooth skin, and long, brown hair in soft curls around her neck and down her shoulders. She was kind of perfect. If I wasn't so busy checking every line of her body and fixating on her bottom lip, I probably would have realized, before it was too late, that I was getting a hard-on right in the middle of a book store. I could probably explain my reaction to this girl by the fact that it'd been a while for me, but that was hardly a good excuse.

What the fuck was going on with me?

I leaned against the counter, for obvious reasons, when the object of my spying game moved right in front of me and grabbed one of the pens from a cup sitting on the top, knocking it over.

"Shit." On instinct, I reached for the cup and caught it before the entire contents scattered around loose.

The girl retreated back to her spot without as much as glancing in my direction. No, "excuse me." No, "thank you." She went to scribble in her notepad as if I didn't exist.

My hair fell down over my eyes, distracting me. It was getting too long again, and I ran my hand through it, wondering if it was time to ask Alice to cut it. I hated when someone touched my hair, couldn't fucking stand it. Because of that, my visits to the barber were so infrequent Alice taught herself how to trim it for me. My sister was the only person who was allowed near it.

Combing my hair with another quick pass, I looked up at the girl again, who was now writing away in her notepad using the newly acquired pen. The faint trail of her fragrance was still in the air since she had moved so suddenly. She smelled really good, but I couldn't place it. Was it cherry? Strawberries? Vanilla, maybe...Something... Something fresh and pure, like...

_Like I fucking knew._

But what I did know was that the smell would haunt me until I figured it out. There was something very familiar, very endearing about it that reminded me of my childhood, the good times. And that bothered me the most—I didn't want to feel nostalgic or even think about something that could never be brought back—yet, something in this girl kept provoking it.

The scent was nothing exotic. Simple, girly and sweet—too sweet, actually, it was almost intoxicating. The girl was like a giant lollipop packed with fruity flavors. There, I got my answer—she smelled like candy. Like sun, and laughter, and sticky fingers from spun sugar. Nothing momentous, and therefore—useless.

Mystery was solved.

I should've let it go at that point, moved on, and yet, I wasn't moving, trying to imprint the poignant smell in my brain.

I looked at the girl's face again. At that moment, with her lips puckered and eyes downcast, she seemed young—too young. She looked like a teenager. What was I doing? By staying and ogling her, I was no more different than prick Jasper, who probably already sensed and enjoyed the agony of my confusion.

Still, I couldn't help myself. Feeling childish and having no desire to control it, I started taping on the table, making a hollow, rhythmic sound, while looking at her with an obvious stare. Why wouldn't she acknowledge me? I was standing right next to her! Irate, I cleared my throat. Finally, that earned her attention. She turned and caught me openly gawking at her. She blinked a few times, her face slowly changed the color from pale to a light shade of pink, two bright-red spots appeared on the apples of her cheeks. _She is so..._

Jasper coughed at my ear, stealing away the rest of my thought. His eyes darted to the girl and back to me. He smirked.

I didn't like it.

"We're leaving," I announced to him, the words seemed to come out against my own will. In reality, I wanted nothing more than to stay, find a spot with a book not too far from the newsstand girl, and let her sweet, candy scent saturate my skin, fill my lungs, and make my head feel light.

Jasper chuckled. Before he could say anything to embarrass me in front of the girl, I grabbed him by his jacket and jerked him away from the counter.

"I said we're leaving, Jasper," I repeated forcefully.

"Now, now." I heard a cheerful voice behind me. "Boys, behave!"

I turned, for a moment thinking that it was the lollipop girl, who finally decided to speak up. Actually, I was hoping for it, because such an annoying voice could surely break any spell. But no such luck, as I found some other girl I'd never seen before addressing us. Her stiff curls, bright lipstick, and red cowboy boots screamed, "I want attention!"

"What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" she asked sweetly, taking a curl of her hair and twisting it around her finger.

"No problems here," Jasper drawled, his eyes lit up at the sight of the girl shamelessly flirting with us.

I groaned internally. Why couldn't I ever get a break? I was ready to abandon him here all together and drive back home by myself and let Alice deal with her asshole of a boyfriend.

"I got the change, E." He flashed a victorious smile at me.

"Groovy. Are you done now?" I asked him impatiently.

"Almost." He grinned.

_Jesus, what now?_

"Bella," Curly Sue addressed someone behind me and I stiffened. "Did you pick anything today? I bet you still didn't pay for your candy. Come on." She started to walk around me to the cashier.

"Oh, and..." she stopped and looked at Jasper "...if you need more change, I can be your go-to person."

Batting her eyelashes, she opened her purse and started digging inside. "Here you go." She handed a quarter to Jasper, who accepted it with enthusiasm.

"So kind of you, lady," he said, placing his hand on his chest, "much obliged."

The girl melted and proceeded fishing more money out of her bag and placing the coins one by one in his hand.

"How lucky are we, Edward?" He turned to me, shaking the change in his fist.

"Extremely." I forced a smile, while in my imaginary happy place I was strangling him with Curly Sue's hair.

"What about you?" Jasper asked the girl, depositing the change into his pocket. "No need to save up for parking?"

"Oh, not really. My friend Bella drives..." Curly Sue pointed her thumb at the lollipop girl behind her "...and she always parks away from the main streets anyway. She likes to walk a lot, this girl." She giggled.

Why was that funny? I liked to walk a lot, too.

"Besides," Cowboy Boots wasn't shutting up, "Bella's dad is a cop, so we can always count on him to bail us out if we ever get in trouble. Right, Bells?" She turned to her friend, who was practically scowling back.

"And I'm Jessica, by the way." She thrust her hand to Jasper without skipping a beat. She was obviously attuned to her friend's demeanor.

_Bella, a daughter of a police officer. _The thought was stuck in my head like a broken record.

Now that the girl with the notepad was facing me, I took her entire appearance in—the warm chocolate-brown eyes, the high cheekbones and pointy chin, the small hands clutching her notes like she was holding on for dear life, and her delicate, frail figure. Her body looked as if she wouldn't pass for older than sixteen or seventeen. Her eyes, however, were another story. Hooded with dark circles, deep, they hid a person with an old soul.

_How old is she? She is probably a minor._

Something was seriously fucking wrong with me.

If I could only stop blatantly staring at the girl, I would be fine.

_Look away. Look away._

But I couldn't. Of course she noticed, and in response, looked back at me daringly. I finally averted my eyes, the pattern of the carpet suddenly became very exciting. But who was I kidding here? With a sigh, I returned to my ogling of the brown-eyed girl only a few moments later.

"And you are Jasper?" Jessica's loud voice made me flinch.

"You can call me that, ma'am." The bastard winked, bent over, stretching his foot out in a mocking pose of chivalry, and lightly kissed the back of Jessica's hand. She burst into the most annoying giggle ever produced by womankind.

"Cut it out." Bella finally broke her silence, addressing the two of them in a quiet voice. "Jess, it's really time to go," she reminded her overly-zealous friend.

"But why? We just started having fun!

"You see," Jessica continued, bouncing on her feet, "our Bella likes to make people think that she is all goody-goody. But watch out!" This time she was looking directly at me. "It's like playing with fire. Or, catching a small tornado or something—all you see in the outside is, like, a swirl and a small cloud. But try to get in the way and—" She imitated an explosion with her hands, pushing them right in my face. "You're in for a wild ride."

"Jesus." I took a step back from her.

Jasper tossed his head back in a laugh. Jessica joined him, pleased with herself and with the reaction she managed to get from both of us.

But I wasn't looking at Jessica anymore. It was much more rewarding to watch her evidently distressed friend. I saw Bella's cheeks grow flaming red. She shook her head down, long locks fell to the front, shielding her face. She jerked her backpack from the shoulder and started shoving her notepad inside. Jasper kept chuckling in amusement.

"Well," Bella mumbled into the bag, rummaging through it. Her voice was barely audible. "That was tons of fun."

She looked like she was ready to bolt out of there; I felt the same way.

"It sure was," Jessica echoed enthusiastically, oblivious to the sarcastic tone in her friend's voice. "I guess we will see you around?" She looked at Jasper suggestively.

"Leaving so soon?" Jasper cooed. "Are you ladies from around here?"

"Nope. Forks is our land. It's a little town, less than an hour drive from here. You should check it out some time." Curly Sue kept talking, readily offering information.

Bella froze with her hand still in the bag. She snapped her head up, looking at Jessica in disbelief; the expression on her face was sheer fury. I kept watching her, mesmerized. This girl was like a great book—fascinating, bewildering, captivating. I wanted to reach out and touch her face, smooth out the wrinkle between her furrowed brows, assure her that these people were just clueless, and what they said meant nothing.

"And do you come here often?" Jasper wouldn't let it go.

Now, _that_ I was interested in knowing myself.

_Keep going, Jasper..._

"Nah, not me," Jessica answered, not looking the slightest bit uncomfortable by the admission that book stores were not on the top of her list of the places to visit. "This is Bella's gig. She drives here whenever she can for artsy-fartsy performances and 'indie' (Jessica made an air quotes) writer's events at this store. She gets off on stuff like that."

Bella had sent Jessica another menacing look, but her friend didn't seem to pay attention to it and kept smiling at us. She either knew how to handle it, or maybe she just didn't care.

I shifted uncomfortably. Jasper, on another hand, looked like he would pay a large sum of money just to watch these two girls go at it. Short of rubbing his hands in gleeful anticipation and announcing an invitation to place bets, he was openly enjoying the show. I was embarrassed for both of them and hated myself for just standing there and pretending that none of it concerned me.

Bella looked exasperated and upset, and I felt a new wave of anger forming in my chest. I did not know this girl, but already resented her imbecile friend. They didn't look like they had anything in common.

Silence fell between us, the only thought in my head was to apologize and leave.

But I just couldn't bring myself to do so, hating the situation more with every fucking second. I could tell that Jasper was about to speak again. I groaned quietly, dreading whatever words would come out of his mouth, when I noticed how all of a sudden Bella's disposition had changed. She briefly closed her eyes, took a sharp breath, and straightened, shooting her head up. Her hands formed tight fists around the handles of her backpack, knuckles turning white from squeezing. Bella looked right into Jasper's eyes, without a doubt calling for him to bring it.

"Whoa!" Jasper stilled under her glare. "Here comes the tornado." He chuckled.

Jessica finally turned to Bella. They exchanged a look, Bella sending a furious wave, her friend returned it with a confused stare. And with that, the show was over.

"Oh, come on, Bella. I..." Jessica started.

_She will never want anything to do with me after this,_ a bitter thought zipped through my mind.

_Nothing could ever happen anyway,_ I admitted to myself.

I felt instantly tired, defeated.

I was done here. Trying not to look Bella in the eye, I gave a short nod to the girls.

"Let's go," I told Jasper, ignoring the bimbo, who kept mumbling something to Bella.

"Out!" I ordered louder, seeing that Jasper wasn't moving. I gripped his elbow and pushed him forward to the exit door. Dragging him with me, I helped him along by bumping him with my shoulder. "Move, jackass."

Jackass was smart enough not to resist this time; he had done enough for today, and surely he knew it.

"Ladies, it was a pleasure," he said over his shoulder, jerking his arm away from me.

"What the fuck was that show about?" I attacked him as soon as we got out of the door.

"Come on, man, get that stick out of your ass. Why wouldn't you stay a bit longer to watch that angry kitten pounce?" Jasper folded his hands in pleading.

"You're an asshole, Jasper," I told him, shaking my head. This whole trip ended up being a complete waste.

"Maybe, but at least I'm fun. Go back in there. Isn't it why you came here?"

"No way. Not after your spectacular performance."

"Whatever, man. Hey, you know what?" With a flick of the wrist Jasper retrieved a piece of paper, seemingly out of thin air. "Here's the flyer to the next 'indie' workshop." He mockingly used the air quotes, just like Curly Sue at the store. "You should go. I'm sure that your feisty firecracker will be there. You'll get a chance to redeem yourself, you know—show her you're the same artsy-fartsy type she likes so much."

"Stop talking about something you have no clue about and get the hell out of my face," I snarled and tore the flyer from his hand.

"Easy, easy, brother, I'm just trying to help. Besides, this dry spell you're on is getting old."

"What, you're keeping track of my sex life now? Fuck off."

"We need you calm and focused, ready for the next assignment." He shrugged. "You don't fit the bill at the moment."

"I'm as calm as they come, asshole," I spat at him. "I can do my part tomorrow if I have to. I can do it in my sleep." I harshly pulled my sunglasses from the front of my shirt, tearing one of the buttons out, and shoved the sunglasses on my face. We were done talking.

"If you say so, brother." Jasper laughed, but his eyes remained dead serious. He tried to appear casual and relaxed, while I knew his every word and move were calculated and deliberate.

"Focus, brains, and a bit of luck are all we need," he repeated, like I needed a fucking lecture. "Nothing else matters. We're golden, man!" he declared exuberantly and reached to pat my shoulder.

I jerked back to avoid the contact. The suffocating grip of anger threatened to choke me. I needed to walk away.

"Look out for my text. I'll see you in a few," Jasper shouted after me.

"I wish it was never," I muttered, too low for him to hear.

I wished I could walk away for good.

* * *

**A/N: Not pleasant and smooth, not at all. Do you hate Jasper yet?**

**Thank you for reading. Hope you review.**


	7. Chapter 6 Face Value

**A/N: I thank all my readers for the support. It has been fun sharing this story with you. I appreciate every one of you, and your opinion makes this journey worthwhile.**  
**My love and gratitude again to my amazing betas: mopstyle and twitchling! Rags88, thank you for pre-reading. Books, love you.**  
**Disclaimer:** **SM owns all Twilight. I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Face value**

**_BPOV_**

I stood quietly next to the counter, wishing the last ten minutes of my life hadn't happened. I knew Jess could be flaky and insensitive at times, but this was beyond anything she'd ever done before.

She kept telling me something while tugging my sleeve, and I couldn't bring myself to care for it. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to go home.

She was not pleased when I told her so.

"Are you hungry or something? Why are you so cranky?" she asked.

I stared at her, dumbfounded. "Are you saying I have no reason to be upset?"

She ruined this trip and tried to pin it on me. _Unbelievable._

"Is it about those guys? I don't see what the big deal is." Jessica had the nerve to look annoyed. "I was just trying to meet new people. I did it for _you_! And you flipped as soon as I called for an attention on you."

I opened my mouth to object.

"I know what you gonna say," she interrupted me. "You think I was mean. I wasn't. I told two gorgeous _older_ guys that my friend is unpredictable. That's hot! And why don't you ever look anyone in the eye? That guy with the sexy copper hair was staring at you, like, all the time. I think he even sniffed you a couple of times. That was kind of weird. But boy, was he hot!"

Sniff me? She was crazy.

"Are you even for real?"

"What?" She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.

"You told two complete strangers our names, where we live, and even about my father."

"I know, right? Did you see their faces when I said that?" Jessica laughed out loud, making the cashier girl look at us with disapproval. "They were impressed!"

_Impressed?_

"What's _wrong_ with you?" I enquired, without any hope of getting a relevant answer. She still wasn't getting it.

"Jess." I sighed, resigned. "You can not tell people stuff about me without my consent, ever. Besides, do you really think someone will be interested in me if the first thing they learn is that my father is a cop?"

She shrugged. "The boys in our school don't care."

"Because they know my father since birth."

"Yeah, whatever, crunkypants."

I dug out a dollar from my backpack—my emergency stash—since I remembered I'd left my wallet on the top of my dresser at home.

"This is for my candy." I held up the money for the cashier before putting it down on the counter.

"I want to go home," I told Jessica, done with this conversation.

"Yeah, one sec." Her attention was switched to her phone.

Feeling resentful, I didn't want to think that what Jessica just said about meeting new people was true, and how I kept avoiding doing so, even though she and I still had a pact that I would try. I also pushed away the thought that the guy with a sexy copper hair had my complete attention from the moment he walked into the store.

Because if I did allow myself to think about it, I'd have to admit that I shamelessly spied on his squabble with his friend. And that I noticed his long, graceful fingers when he grabbed the cup I almost dropped from the counter, or when he drummed them on the table as if he played the piano. I also didn't miss the soft look on his face when he saw me upset and that he seemed to detest Jessica's behavior just like I did. Up close, I was fascinated by how green his eyes were, and by their intensity. As Jessica pointed, he was gorgeous, and older. He was also way out of my league.

It wasn't very crowded at the store. I could see the exit door across the room and the people walking on the street. Two men were standing right outside arguing. I recognized them instantly.

I saw how the owner of the crazy bronze hair, Edward, threw his palms up in an exasperated gesture, and then froze, looking away, while his friend, Jasper talked. Jasper was laughing when he poked Edward's chest with some yellow piece of paper. Edward snatched the piece of paper out of Jasper's hand and pushed it into his jacket pocket. I couldn't hear what they were saying, I just watched them. Edward was taller; he was looking down at Jasper, the sun lighting his face. His thick brows were in a deep furrow, lips tightly pursed. His hair was sticking out in many directions and he kept running his hand through it, making it look even messier. I could tell Jasper was mocking him, and Edward was having none of it. After exchanging a few more heated words, Edward put his sunglasses on. I watched him turn around and walk away while Jasper kept talking and laughing.

"Earth to Bella." Jessica waved her hand in front of my face. "You said you were ready to go."

I hesitated, fondling the strap of my bag. "Yeah."

I was afraid we might walk out with Jasper still outside of the store. Something about that guy made me uneasy, defensive. I felt like slapping that grin off his face earlier, and I didn't believe I ever had that feeling towards anyone before in my life.

"Let's go then, feeding time," Jessica reminded me.

I grimaced. "No, Jess, I want to go straight home. Besides, I've got no money today, sorry. I just spent my last dollar."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head with why-do-I-even-bother expression on her face, and sighed. I looked out through the exit door again, relieved to find both guys gone. The path was clear.

"Did you manage to snatch anything today?" I asked Jessica as we moved through the store out. I wasn't remotely interested, but my best bet to get off the hook was to let her talk about herself. "Anything fun?"

"Oh, didn't you notice? Look at my new boots!" she immediately went for it, "The sale is unbelievable today, wait until you hear what else I got—"

And with that I was excused to drift off.

All was well in the Kingdom. Business as usual.

As if sensing my sour mood, my father suggested we went to the diner that evening. I was tired and crabby. I also felt guilty for disappearing for the entire day, so I said yes.  
While we were waiting for the desert, several boys from my school burst in, laughing. I knew the boys well. One of them was Mike Newton, who bellowed, "What's up, Bella!" as soon as he spotted me.

That earned a stern glare from the chief of the police. I never knew my father could sport such an impressive unibrow when he wanted to scare someone off. That worked. Mike and the company went immediately quiet, and Diane shooed them off to the farthest booth in the diner. She brought us our deserts.

Charlie lifted a knife and paused with it in the air before cutting his pie. Normally, just fork was enough. "Do any of those boys ever bother you?" he asked me, glancing at the guys behind me.

"N-no," I said right away. "They're fine."

Then I thought about Jessica's earlier stint of spamming our personal information to complete strangers. Should I mention it? Could _that_ be a matter of concern? I brushed the thought off. We were nobody to those guys. Who would think about us twice?

"Still got that pepper spray, kid?" my father asked, wiping his fingers with a napkin.

His quiet, calm presence was reassuring.

"Dad, please." I scoffed, although I'd never stop appreciating that he worried. No one ever did before.

xxx

Three weeks later, Jessica and I were still on friendly terms. Technically.

On the surface we were perfectly fine. We still interacted and ate lunches together at school, but neither of us was actively seeking each other's audience, and I was only happy to maintain that status. The school year end was nearly here, and we were busy with finishing papers, meeting deadlines and sitting in finals. I could say I was occupied to the point where I had no time or energy to worry about my relationship with my best friend—or at least that was what I was telling myself.

Spring quickly turned into summer. Break was coming up and I had absolutely no idea how I was going to occupy my time. Renee asked me to come to visit her in Florida, but she also spilled the news during one of our weekly routine calls that she and Phil were trying for a baby. Yeah, like I wanted to be present when _that _process was in progress.  
So, the Florida idea was out.

I also considered finding a full time job, which wouldn't be an easy task in Forks with all the students out of school, in the same situation as me. I supposed I could use Charlie's connections to get one. That would not be something I'd be proud of, though. Strike that one, as well.

And with that I was out of choices. Add to that equation the promise of an eternally overcast sky and the lack of warm days typical for Forks.

I expected it to be the most boring summer of my life.

xxx

I wanted to go to Port Angeles again. The next new event for writers was coming up at my favorite book store and I really wanted to go.

Reading was still huge part of my life, but it was no longer enough. I found writing to be helpful for sorting the jumbled mess in my head and dealing with my bottled-up emotions. I didn't use my PC for it. Strangely, I enjoyed the old-fashioned way of putting words on a piece of paper. It felt more real, more personable, I guess.

I could probably qualify as an indie writer—I _was_ a complete newbie—so, justifying the decision to go wasn't that difficult. Besides, I was genuinely interested in the process and wanted to learn more.

I was nervous all day before driving to Port Angeles. In Trig I had shared my plans for the evening with Angela, who, unlike Jessica, listened without judging. I mentioned my trip to Jessica as well during a quick chat at the lockers. She gave me a strange look, and I got myself busy with the books so she didn't start chanting something like, "Bella hearts artsy-fartsy, weird guys."

If she did, I'd probably chicken out and wouldn't go at all, and that would be a bummer.  
I finally had to accept the truth. I thought of the green eyes, long fingers and bronze messy hair guy often—entirely too much, considering I knew nothing about him, and our only encounter was a disaster.

I even liked his name—old-fashioned and masculine—as I whispered it over and over again while fantasizing that it weren't my fingers touching me in pleasure but his.  
And I dreamt about him a lot.

In my dreams, he chased me, always catching me, his hands grabbing me by my waist. In those dreams, I couldn't turn to face him. He was holding me too tightly, my back pressed to his chest, our hips joined, his lips at the nape of my neck. I felt him breathing me in, rocking me in his arms. His warm breath was making my whole body ache with longing. I would reach up, trying to hug him by his neck, and breathe out his name. I wanted to feel his lips on mine. I would wake up panting and yearning, my harsh breathing the only sound in the dark room.

I had no reason to hope to ever see Edward again, and yet I was eager to return to the book store to at least be back in the familiar setting.

At this point I was even thankful to Jessica for telling Edward and his friend about my visits to the store for special events. I wasn't a fool. I recognized the yellow piece of paper as a flyer when I saw Jasper poking Edward with it. Edward took the flyer; I saw it with my own eyes. Maybe he decided to keep it? Maybe he'd be there at the event, too?  
My hopes weren't based on any remote possibility, and yet there I was—unreasonably optimistic.

xxx

Late in the afternoon, I drove to Port Angeles, letting my truck cruise at a comfortable speed. The road was slightly damp from the light rain, and I had my window open, enjoying the warm breeze of early June and the view of lush greens passing by.

Summer on the Olympic Peninsula was so different from what I was used to. I wished the days were warmer and drier, sure. But even though I still missed sunny Phoenix, the rich nature of Forks was growing on me.

I wanted to be comfortable today, and opted for my favorite black Converse and jeans instead. My outfit was completed by a white t-shirt with "Silicon Substitution" printed across my chest. Jessica rolled her eyes when she saw it this morning. Tyler, on another hand, seemed to like the t-shirt a lot, which more annoyed than flattered me.

I parked, blocks away from the main streets, as usual. With plenty of time to spare before the event, I slowly walked down the street, window-shopping. I paused before a shop with nice dresses on display, briefly recalling that Forks High prom was coming up. I detested the idea of attending so much I was planning to come down with sudden illness to avoid it.

I reached the book store in a very good mood. Once inside, I looked around the room, not seeing anyone I recognized. I told myself it was still early and took a deep breath, hit with all the familiar smells of the bookshop. I held it in for a few seconds, feeling a pleasant lightheadedness.

I moved along the aisles, contemplating what I felt like reading today. Passing History and Sci-fi, I stopped at the Fiction section. Borges, "The Aleph and other stories"—the cover stood out, calling to me.

"Need any help?" I heard from behind me. I turned.

"Um, I think I've got what I wanted, actually." I smiled to the elderly man who I knew worked here part-time and loved to chat with the customers.

"Ah, the eternity is the standing still of the present time," he said, glancing at the book in my hand. It sounded like he was quoting something. "Have you read it before?" he asked.

"The Aleph? Yes." I nodded. "A story about unrequited love. And hope. I thought it was kind of boring at first, but then I got into it."

He raised his thick, grey eyebrows. "Is that so? What did you like then?"

"Well..." I thought about it. It'd been awhile since I read it, and details were fuzzy.  
"So, Aleph in this story is a tiny point in space which is basically a peephole into the entire universe's past, present and future, right?"

The man nodded. "Yes, a microscopic hole in the step of some cellar stairs. Mysterious, inexplicable phenomenon. The protagonist could observe any and all events ever to occur and people, too—all clear and simultaneously."

"It's... It's..." I was looking for the right words. "The way Borges described it, it felt as if it was something real. What the protagonist discovered really shook him up."

"And then he decided it was a fake."

I frowned. "I don't remember how it ended, I want to read it again."

"Then let me leave you to it." He patted my arm. "Readers like you are the reason I work here. Good luck."

"Thank you," I murmured, feeling slightly flushed from the compliment. The man smiled and left.

With the book in hand, I dropped my backpack and plopped myself on the floor and began reading. I was fully engrossed in the story when I sensed someone moving by me. Without looking, I tucked my legs, letting the person pass through. No one did. Instead, I thought I heard a muffled noise; through my iPod on full blast in my ears I wasn't sure. I pulled one bud away and tilted my head. I froze as soon as I recognized the beat-up boots and the legs in black faded jeans standing next to me. My heart stuttered. I paused the music and slowly remove the headphones, taking a moment to steady myself. I smiled at the person towering over me.

"Did you say something?" I asked, thankful that my voice didn't falter giving away my nervousness.

"I said hi, it's nice to see you again." He lowered himself in a squat, getting close, too close for my comfort and leveled his eyes with mine. Bright, piercing and green—just as I remembered.

My mouth went dry at once.

"Hi," I rasped.

"Hello. You seem very comfortable here." He slid down next to me, stretched out his long legs with the content sigh, and turned his head to me.

"I am. Favorite place to be," I said, trying to not stare at him too much.

I didn't dream it up. He was really here, talking to me. He was so close I could touch him, which wasn't a sensible idea. I dropped my eyes down to the book so I wasn't tempted to push away that unruly strand of hair that fell over his ear. Silence between us lasted so long I started questioning if Edward was interested in talking to me at all. If he wasn't, why was he even here?

When I couldn't stand it any longer I raised my eyes to him and discovered him studying me. Blood surged to my head so fast I heard it pounding in my ears.

"This book store is one of my favorite in the city, too." He broke the silence with a soft smile, and I was thankful he pretended not to notice the scarlet of my cheeks. "And there's an old music store right next door. I like going there–flip through old vinyl records, talk to the owner. He's really cool. Claims to have witnessed the infamous recording of Charlie Parker's _Lover Man._ He must have been a baby then." He chuckled, shaking his head.

I had a very vague idea about Charlie Parker, but at the moment it didn't really matter who that guy was. I watched this man next to me sharing something special with me, his excitement so contagious.

"So, are you a musician?" I asked, the question seemed appropriate.

"Um, no, I'm not," was the immediate answer. "It's just a hobby of mine".

It seemed that he instantly closed off. His eyes became unfocused, his jaw tightened. I watched as he absentmindedly smoothed down his unruly hair, finally tucking that one strand away, only to have it fall down again. It seemed just a tad shorter than last time I saw him, or maybe it was my imagination. I noticed that his boots were very worn, and so was the jacket, but everything looked well taken care of–the shoes, though not laced up properly, were clean, and there was a neat patch sewn to the right sleeve on the elbow, dark brown leather not matching the black color of the jacket itself. He had on a half-buttoned light blue denim shirt, with a gray T-shirt beneath. He was unshaven, but the stubble didn't make him look rough. It actually outlined his strong jaw.

I was staring again. _Not good, Bella._ I returned my attention to the book on my lap, trying to concentrate again on the story. It wasn't happening. He was too near. His smell—the faint musky perfume mixed together with the crisp fresh air and a hint of coffee and cigarette smoke—was too distracting. I kept reading the same lines over and over, the letters refused to make up into the coherent messages.

The time lingered, and with every second I grew more uncomfortable, afraid to make the slightest move. I was stuck in a strange affair—not wanting to leave, but not sure if I should stay. Very aware of his presence, I felt his tension as well. I wondered if he was even breathing, he was so quiet. I kept pretending to read, my body felt stiff and my neck started to hurt. When I finally heard him clear his throat and move to stand up, I sighed with relief.

"You know," he said, and I snapped my head up. I was met with a soft smile. "I just realized, I don't think I had formally introduced myself. I'm Edward..." He slightly leaned forward, offering me his hand.

"Bella." I pushed myself up while extending my hand to him. The book slipped from my lap and fell down with a muted thump. Neither of us looked down.

"I remember, Bella." Edward smiled crookedly again and took my fingers, squeezing them. He then grabbed my elbow with another hand and pulled me up. It was a natural gesture, and yet the direct contact with his skin sent prickles shooting up my shoulder, the hair stood up on my neck, and I almost lost my balance. His smile slowly disappeared as he released my hand.

"Thank you," I managed.

He nodded. We stood in the aisle for what seemed like forever, our eyes locked. Edward finally shifted with a sigh, the leather of his jacket crackled with the movement, and we both looked away. The book was still on the floor, so I picked it up and shuffled to the shelf, placing it back and returning for my backpack.

"What was it you were reading?" Edward stepped closer and touched the cover, checking the title. I inhaled, hit by his smell again. He stepped back and turned to me with a surprised look on his face. "You know Borges?"

"I do." I exhaled, puzzled by the question.

"How old are you, Bella?" he asked, studying my face.

"Why does it matter?" I went on the defense, not understanding his reaction.

"I'm sorry. I'm prying. I'm just surprised you are interested in Borges."

"I'm interested in a lot of different authors. How is it related to my age?"

"It's not. Forgive me."

I decided to answer anyway. "I'm seventeen. I have nothing to hide."

The expression on Edward's face hardened. He nodded and hunched his shoulders, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Well, Bella, it was nice seeing you again," he muttered after a pause without looking at me.

"You've already said that." I knew what he was thinking. I may have been younger than him, but it didn't mean I was stupid.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "nothing's wrong with being nice to random strangers."  
_Random stranger…_ Of course, who else would I be to him?

Call me melodramatic, but I was disappointed. It became painfully evident to me that I was crushing on this guy. I was here today because I had this gut feeling that I'd see Edward again. My gut feeling was right, but did I really hope for any sort of reciprocation? Was I out of my mind? Of course there was no chance! But why did he approach me and talked to me? And what had I said or done to solicit such a strange reaction from him? He looked so angry, his darkened eyes bore into mine. Why?

Because I liked Borges? Because I was seventeen? What did he expect?

Judging by Edward's expression, it didn't look like I was going to get any answers, and I'd never beg anyone, ever, to talk to me if they didn't want to. I was a random stranger, after all.

Oh, why did I even give two shits? I should let him think whatever he wanted, and I should leave.

"No, nothing's wrong with being polite," I agreed, playing my part. "Enjoy your evening."  
Edward nodded, his jaw set, and shoved his hand into his hair. He pursed his lips, and I almost laughed thinking how many times during the last few weeks I had imagined having them on me.

I carefully stepped around him, trying not to come in contact with him in the confined place. He shirked away from me, evidently attempting the same.

I almost walked out of the store, forgetting why I was there in the first place. Ah, yes, the writers' workshop. I wasn't sure I wanted to stay for it anymore. Actually, I was sure I didn't, but leaving would only prove how weak I was. And no, _that_ I couldn't allow to happen. I turned around and walked straight to the small group of people already gathering at the lounge area.

There was coffee and some condiments offered on the small table. To occupy myself, I poured a cup and took a big sip, promptly burning my tongue. I winced from the sensation and tried to nurse the pain, curling and uncurling my tongue and sucking on it slightly. It only made it worse. I gently inhaled some cool air in my mouth for some relief. I knew it would bother me for days.

As if I needed any reminders about the massacre of my pride I had just experienced.  
It was what was left of my pride that made me stay at the store and wait for the event to start. Who did this jerk think he was to chase me from this place? I was here first!

"Bella?" Someone tapped my shoulder. "Hey."

I blinked and focused on a familiar grinning face staring at me.

"It's nice to see you, Bella."

None other than Rob Sawyer—my date that never happened—was standing at the table, smiling.

"Oh, hi."

"What are you doing here?" Rob asked. "I mean, sorry, it was a stupid question. You're in a book store, duh."

Did he just ask me a question and answer it himself? He could be an excellent date—I mused—I missed my opportunity with this guy. And he was kind of cute—tall, blue eyes, blond…

Not my type at all. I sighed.

"I know, sorry," Rob spoke again. "I shouldn't have even asked. Do you come here often? My aunt lives nearby."

So it didn't look like I was required to speak at all. Rob was one of those self-sufficient types—like Jessica. I was reminded of what I didn't miss about her. When he finally paused, looking at me expectantly, I tried to come up with a proper response and fell short. So, I just stood and started at him, stirring my coffee. He blushed furiously, poor guy. Was it possible that he _was_ my match, indeed?

He cleared his throat. "It's my aunt's birthday today. I came to buy her a card."

He handed me a card that said, "Happy Birthday, Maureen!"

"Your Aunt's name is Maureen? How convenient." I tried to be pleasant.

"Ha-ha, no, but she loves shoes. Look, they are all over the card." He opened it in my hand and pointed inside.

Then who the hell was Maureen? I frowned. Did I say "a match"? Maybe not.

"Listen, Bella." Rob touched my arm, looking very sincere; I pretended his touch didn't bother me. "I am almost a half an hour late for my aunt's, but if you could give me your number—"

"Hello and welcome to our _Indie writer's workshop_!" a cheerful voice broke through the chatter of the people in the lounge, and—thankfully—interrupted my company. The room went quiet.

"Sorry, maybe later?" I smiled apologetically and handed the card back to Rob. "Have fun at the party."

"Meh." He shrugged and smiled back. "I'll see you at school, Bella." He waved a good-bye and scurried to the counter to pay.

I turned around to find a spot to settle down and faced the room again.

_What the hell?_

Edward stood directly behind the host, leaning against the side of the bookshelf. He was looking straight at me, studying me, with his arms crossed on his chest. His perfect face looked rigid, as if it was set in stone. I narrowed my eyes, meeting his glare, determined to keep it up until he looked away first.

_You want a staring contest, mister, you got it!_

I knew it was silly, but being stubborn as I was, I couldn't just drop it. I wanted to figure out what this man wanted from me. At the same time, I was scared, feeling that I was getting myself into something I would not be able to walk away from unscathed.

Polite applause abruptly pulled both of us from our stare. We both looked at the guy, who was introducing himself as the host of the evening and the author of a newly published book. He held one in his hand, talking about the story behind it. If this evening turned into a discussion of someone's book I'd never heard of I'd be very disappointed. To my immense relief, a minute later, the guy put the book away.

"Now that I'm done with this painful self-promotion part..." The crowd was chuckling at his words. "Let's focus on why we are here tonight. I always like to hear from my fellow writers what got them into writing. What made you start and what inspires you?"  
The guy moved his gaze from person to person in the crowd, smiling expectantly. A momentary silence, followed by a low murmur, settled around the lounge. People were looking at one another with shy smiles, no one wanted to go first.

_It won't be me, for sure,_ I thought, averting my eyes, as if not looking at someone would make me invisible.

"You, sir. How about you?" the host asked, breaking a dead silence.

I looked up, finding with a great surprise that he was addressing Edward, who in return seemed startled and not exactly pleased. He looked rather pissed. He glared at the guy and then turned to glower at me. Like it was _my_ fault he was standing right next to the host. He practically asked for it!

I tried not to show it on my face, but I was gloating a little—there was justice in the world, after all—and I was dying to see how it all played out.

"What about me?" Edward finally spoke up, his voice hoarse.

"Do you have any inspirations? Do you write? How did you get into it and why?" The same question only rephrased. The guy seemed determined to challenge Edward.  
If I were Edward, I'd probably be annoyed at this point, too.

If I were Edward, I would also blush, produce a nervous stutter and spill coffee all over myself. The most embarrassing and weirdest things happened to me when I was placed in the spotlight. This was a moment of exactly that nature, and it was a good thing I wasn't the one chosen to be picked on.

I could tell the instant Edward made a decision to play along—there was a slight, but noticeable change in his demeanor. He still looked irritated, but his expression somehow seemed softer to me. He sighed.

"Well," he said, raising his hand to rub his forehead. He then tugged at his hair, and I wondered if he did it when nervous or uncomfortable.

"Well," he repeated a little louder, looking at the host. "I am not a writer." It sounded like an apology. He coughed into his hand.

I felt a slight unease in my stomach, instantly unsure if I wanted to hear what Edward was about to tell us.

"Or… I guess, I kind of am. I used to compose music. As a hobby…" He glanced at me and quickly looked away.

As if there was an invisible line between him and the rest of us in the lounge, he kept back without coming closer. After a short pause he said, "I started when I was about…ah… five years old, maybe six."

I tried to imagine a six year old Edward, picturing a green-eyed boy with unruly reddish hair. I bet he struggled with it all his life. I could sure relate to that.

"Anyone heard of a little musical piece called _Peter and the Wolf_?" he asked, unexpectedly flashing a dazzling smile at us.

I watched people nod. Even if no one in the room had ever heard of it, there still was a positive response. How there could not be? Edward's lopsided smile alone could melt a coldest heart. It sure had that effect on me, whether I wanted it or not.

"So, anyway, first, I wanted to be like that boy, Peter, who caught the bad wolf. He was a hero who saved the world, and I wanted to be just like him. What six-year-old doesn't want to be a superhero?"

People in the lounge murmured in empathy.

"Prokofiev made it sound so easy," Edward explained. He pushed himself away from the bookcase and stood with his feet spread apart, firmly planted to the ground.

His eyes were bright from the memory he was recalling. "And as a kid I thought: how hard can it be for me? I can write my own music. Each instrument has a voice. I just needed to create a melody of my own for all of them and tie them together."

He chuckled, shaking his head, just like he did earlier when he talked about a famous musician. "I thought I could do anything; in my mind I was invincible. Such a cocky little shit."

The crowd looked thoroughly entertained with Edward's speech. I couldn't stop from smiling at his last words myself.

"So, was it?" the host asked.

"Was it what?" Edward looked at him, still smiling.

"Was it… did it turn out to be easy for you to write your own?"

The corners of Edward's mouth turned down, and he dropped his eyes to the ground. "Like I said," he said in considerably cooler voice, "I used to compose. I haven't opened music sheets in ages. It's not there for me anymore."

"Well, maybe you need to go back to your roots? To what had you going at the beginning?" the guy offered.

Edward glanced back at the host. He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. He shook his head. "Nah, it's all long gone. Superheroes don't exist."

He said it with such conviction, my heart split in ache.

His hand was back in his hair, the ease from his posture gone. As he fixed his stare straight ahead, it was obvious his mind was not in this room anymore. I wondered where he went in his thoughts, wishing I could travel to that place with him.

His expression turned grim, and though I shouldn't have felt that way, I was captured by his dark, beautiful face. I didn't want to like him, but he was making it impossible for me to hate him.

Edward was confusing. Was he real when he'd been so mean to me in the aisle? Or was he sincere here, in the lounge? Was it all an act just now? Or was he letting us know something entirely personal? Why did he stay? Did it have anything to do with me? The man kept surprising me.

Maybe I was just flattering myself for no reason. Maybe what I saw as vulnerability was the simple trick of a crowd pleaser, who knew how to charm a room full of people with his soft voice, beautiful face and sexy hair.

I wanted to find out and my curiosity was too strong to fight it. Before I could change my mind, I cleared my throat and took a step forward.

"Rilke for me," I said, raising my hand. My voice broke, but it was loud enough to get everyone's attention. I felt the blood—my enemy—rushing to my face. Internally I argued with myself that this should be easy, talking about books was my realm.  
I glanced at Edward. Was he paying attention? I wanted him to.

With a strange feeling of liberation, I jutted my chin and pushed a piece of hair away from my face. I was who I was—and about to reveal more.

"I'm talking about inspiration," I decided to clarify addressing the host, since he stared at me quizzically. "Rilke does it for me."

"Rilke? Rilke…" The guy snapped his fingers several times. "Nineteenth century, German poet?"

"Austrian," I corrected. Part of me was relieved at least someone in the room was familiar with one of my favorite writers, and part of me felt stupid for trying to enlighten the group of people who probably could care less about his origins. "He could glorify fate, solitude and anxiety like no other," I shared. "What teenage girl would not fall in love with that?"

The reaction from the room surprised me—there was laughter, apparently I could crack a joke in front of an audience. This time, I refused to look at Edward. I didn't want him to think I was seeking his approval. I was doing just fine on my own.

I was brought down abruptly by the host, who said, "Would you share some of the Rilke's poetry with us? Perhaps your favorite?"

Crap, I just fell into my own trap. With two dozen eyes looking at me in expectation, I lost my bravado. Pathetically, I tried to remember why I thought sharing something very personal was a good idea, and I was drawing blank.

"If it escapes your mind, that's alright, maybe some other time."

Wait a minute. Did this guy just assume I'd speak in front of all these people without actually knowing my favorite poem? No way.

Did Edward think so, too? I glanced in his direction. He was back to his position against the bookcase, hands across his chest. His expression was unreadable. He looked like he didn't give a damn, like he didn't belong here. Was he back to being an asshole?  
Against my better judgment, and because I was too immature to know when to stop, I closed my eyes to gain clarity, inhaled deeply and started the poem.

"_I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough_  
_truly to consecrate the hour._  
_I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough_  
_to be to you just object and thing,_  
_dark and smart."_

I kept reciting it and stared at the white plastic cup of coffee in my hands. As the words were leaving my mouth, I imagined that instead of evaporating, they floated around me, filling up the space, and building the familiar bubble I liked to encase myself in. It was the place where I belonged, where I knew who I was.

_"I want my free will, and want it accompanying_  
_the path which leads to action;_  
_and want during times that beg questions,_  
_where something is up,_  
_to be among those in the know,_  
_or else be alone."_

This was the time—the first time ever—that I forgot to be concerned with the amount of people in the room while I was speaking. Because, in truth, there was only one person I meant these words for. Never mind that this person was perfect only in my imaginary world.

_"...Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;_  
_for there I would be dishonest, untrue._  
_I want my conscience to be_  
_true before you..."_

Except for a short-lived clap, it was strangely still in the lounge when I finished. I kept looking down, studying a thin red straw contrasting with the black liquid in my cup, and hating myself for this sudden outburst of bravery. My heart was jumping out of my chest. It was surprising I didn't stutter, choke, or simply dissolve on a spot while sharing something dear to me with others.

It was time to deal with the consequences. Bracing myself for further comments and praying I could exit gracefully, if needed, I raised my head. Focusing my eyes, I trained them on the spot where Edward stood earlier, only to find it empty. He was no longer in the lounge or anywhere around. Edward was gone.

The air escaped my lungs with a sharp, audible hiss, leaving me feeling like a deflected balloon – small, futile, used. Stunned and crushed, I blurted out an apology, and before anyone could speak to me, I ran out of the bookstore.

* * *

**A/N: I would like to recommend 2 stories for you to read:**

**"Simplicity is Key" by Rags88, I love Mr. Chuckles! **  
**"Evading Edward" by VampshaveLaws, Edward and Bella are so incredibly cute in trying to avoid each other: **

***The poem used in this chapter is by _Rainer Maria Rilke "I'm much too alone in this world"._**

**Thank you for reading.**


	8. Chapter 7 Pecunia Non Olet

**A/N: While what I write is a work of fiction, real stories inspire it. Some make me smile, some break my heart. My story will contain some sensitive topics with no intention to offend anyone.**

**I thank my betas twitchling and mopstyle for helping me with this chapter and for being awesomely patient with me. Rags88, my pre-reader, thank you, girl! Thanks to Books as well.**

**Thank you to all my readers and reviewers, and to those who put me on alerts. **

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight. I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Pecunia Non Olet**

Sinnerman, where you gunna run to

Where you gunna run to?

Well, I run to the rock,

Please hide me, I run to the rock,

Please hide me, lord.

**"Sinnerman" by Nina Simone**

_**?POV**_

_**2 years ago**_

"_Thank you for selecting Bream Medical Center for your health care services._

_The amount listed by_ _'Total Balance Due' is your responsibility. Payment is due within 20 days._

_Total Balance Due is…"_

_It's thirty-five seventy-five… Thirty-five hundred seventy-five dollars! That's on top of the forty-six thousand we already owe! Where will we get all that money?_

_I want my mommy. Why wouldn't my mommy help me? I can't do this anymore…_

_Okay._

_Breathe, breathe. Don't cry._

_You can't cry; Bree will hear you. Even if she doesn't, she might_ _sense that you're upset, and that will offset her reaction. Bree can't be upset; her lungs are too weak. Think of your girl. Think of her and get a fucking grip already._

I couldn't give up—my child needed me every day. Regardless of how frustrated and miserable I was, I had to keep going.

xxx

Wiping my runny nose and eyes, I separated the first page of the statement from the rest with my wet, sticky fingers and dialed the number listed because twenty days was nothing. The days would fly by, and unless I had a system there was no way I could keep track of all the bills.

I had figured it out a while ago—it was best to pay the required minimum amount right away. Today I was going to use the credit card that still had some limit left; that card was my last reserve, and I religiously paid the minimum balance on it to keep the collection agencies at bay. Those minimum payments, though, meant less heat in the house, food only from the frozen section at the supermarket—unless it was for Bree—and absolutely no luxury items. Fuck, last time I was at the store I couldn't even afford to buy tampons. I didn't cry. I wanted to. I almost did, but the look on my husband's face when I put the box back on the shelf after holding it for a long minute while comparing the prices spoke more than a thousand words. I simply told him that it wasn't that time of the month yet and hoped that he believed me. He was emasculated already as it was, and I couldn't let our inability to buy me some feminine hygiene product be a reason my husband broke completely. He was already broken enough.

Outside of caring for Bree and trying to figure out the best way to save money, I was investing the majority of my free time researching new treatments. After spending the first several weeks in a grieving coma and realizing that we had no one willing to give us a hand, I chose the only option available to me—I chose to fight for my child. There were studies and treatments available for kids like Bree. I was determined to try everything to find the right care and equipment to help my girl become healthy again.

It was a lot of work. Eleven months after the accident, and I already knew the system well. I knew the insurance numbers and the customer service menu options like the back of my hand; it was almost a daily routine, no matter how much I hated the process. My mission in life became getting as many treatments and visits to the doctors covered as possible. I would spend at least two hours a day on calls, being transferred from one representative to another, often yelling, crying, demanding to speak to a supervisor, and on some days I would actually be told that my claim was being put in the queue for review. Those were my good days. A "maybe" wasn't a "no," and that was a small victory in itself each time.

That was my routine— a part of my life as mundane as walking, talking, and crying.

xxx

I was on hold again. While listening to the elevator music and the promise that my call was important to them, I flipped through brochures for the physical therapy program at a local community college. I had been considering taking classes, hoping they could possibly be the answer to some of our problems. On the back of the brochure, there was a blurb about the college offering program payment assistance for their students. In the end, if I could provide some professional care to Bree myself, we could save a lot more money.

_Money. God damn money._

I fucking hated money. I hated what the lack of it did to my family. My family deserved so much better than the shithole we lived in. Bree needed a larger bed and not just any bed, she needed an adjustable one. Bree needed expensive medication, better nursing care, and special equipment.

Time was running out.

"Time is running out." I had heard that so many times in the past several months from different doctors, and my eyes and throat hurt from all the crying and begging I had done. We could do nothing without adequate medical coverage. That was while Medicare didn't offer much to begin with. With the current shitty economy, the cuts in overall benefits and medication coverage were staggering. We needed the best doctors, and the best wouldn't see us because they didn't accept Medicare. We were fucked from any point you looked at it. We were absolutely, utterly…

"Thank you for calling Bream Medical Center billing department, how may I help you?"

The conversation went as usual. Of course they took the money, and thank you God, the credit card charge went through. The poor girl who took the call listened to my blather patiently, showing sympathy as I explained our situation. I automatically wrote her name down along with the date of my call, as I already knew that I had to record every conversation, every call I made—that was one of the rules of the game. And if I kept addressing her by her name, making it personable, and if I kept saying the name of my girl, mentioning her age and condition, she probably wouldn't be as harsh while reminding me that my current outstanding balance with that doctor's office was now over ten thousand dollars. I fucking knew what my outstanding balance was, but I had to smile through the phone, dripping honey, talking all sweet and apologetic and pretending like I had a plan.

I had no fucking plan. I lived one day at a time, with only two worries on my mind—Bree's health and the money. I didn't worry about when I had last taken a shower because we had to watch the water bill. I stopped worrying about my marriage. I hadn't made love to my husband—or simply fucked him for some release—in over a month. Who was counting? We had no money for the pill, and that alone could kill anyone's mood. Besides, I didn't even have to pretend that I had a headache—I had had a raging migraine all day long for what seemed like an eternity. Who cared about fucking anymore? I sure didn't.

Twenty minutes later I slammed the phone down on the receiver. Slammed it, but not hard enough to break it because I couldn't afford a new phone. I was pissed as usual.

It wasn't just frustration anymore. I hated them all—the Cynthias, Rons and Crystals from the insurance company who took my calls, who listened to my begging, but had very little power to offer help. I hated the pile of letters rejecting our insurance claims. I hated that I couldn't go out with my husband and laugh and drink and do what normal young people did for fun. I hated screaming, running kids in the park and their happy moms so proud of their healthy offspring. My child couldn't run or scream. I had it differently. I had the other side of the coin, we've been stricken by misery, and although I tried to see the good in what I had, with every passing day it was getting harder and harder.

I loathed the world I lived in.

xxx

The sweat trickled from my temple and down the side of my cheek before I tiredly wiped it off. I was working on making pureed food for Bree when I heard the entrance door open. I peeked out to see who had come home. It was not the person I wanted to see, and I grimaced and moved back to the stove.

Listening to the rustling sound of the bags being placed on the table, I turned around to find him unloading groceries. Baskets of fresh strawberries and blueberries, two bags of large peaches and avocados, lox, stilton cheese, and a loaf of fresh bread—were now sitting on top of the unpaid bills. Saliva began pooling in my mouth—I hadn't had an avocado or blueberry for so long I had forgotten what they tasted like. _Blueberry pie._ I swallowed and groaned loudly. There was nothing better in the world than a warm blueberry pie with vanilla bean ice cream on top.

He smiled sheepishly at me. "Are you happy to see me today? It sure looks like it."

I tried not to glare; it wasn't right to bitch at someone who brought us food to the table. Still, my hand went to my hip as I asked, "Since when do you splurge on food? What is this all about?"

He pointed at the table. "Oh, this? This is nothing." He paused for a moment and smirked. "It's not my fault your husband can't afford simple things."

That immediately set me off. I felt my mouth twist, words coming through my teeth, "Fuck off! Don't you dare talk shit about my husband."

"Easy, darling, I was just joking."

I was ready to claw at him, but afraid to wake up Bree I hissed, "Your stupid jokes do nothing for me. Get your shit out of my kitchen, and get the hell out of my house!"

"Listen, sister, I'm not the enemy here. I'm here to help."

I wanted to remind him that I wasn't his damn sister and I didn't want his help, because the guy had to be completely out of his mind to assume that I would ever accept him as part of my family.

He was already cutting an avocado and removing the large, glistening pit. The fruit, or was it a vegetable, I didn't really care, looked perfectly ripe and green, oily and rich and begging to be eaten. I tightened my fist with the spoon still in my hand and turned away to hide my hungry, longing eyes.

"Want to see what else I have for you?" He was suddenly close. "Hey, look at me."

I couldn't _not_ look; something in his voice was telling me I would _want_ to see what he was going to show to me. With confusion, I watched him take my hand and place a tight roll of money into it.

My fingers were stiff. With astonishment I saw him close them around the roll, the rubber band come in contact with the silver band that was now my wedding ring. I felt sick. I didn't have to unfold it to know that there was a lot of money in that roll.

He chuckled. "By the look on your pretty face I can tell you like what you see. There's more where it came from."

"Where did you get this money?"

He shrugged. "I'm very good at poker."

I laughed to his face. "Yeah, right."

I didn't believe him; his whole demeanor was screaming 'liar'. I knew him for one. I couldn't prove it, but I just I knew what he was.

Squinting, I tried to focus my eyes, but the burn of the roll in my hand was distracting me.

"Poker-shmoker. Cut the shit. This smells like trouble and way dirtier than cheating in some card game."

He tossed his head back and made that ghoulish, ominous sound that always made the skin crawl on the back of my neck; it was hardly passable as a laugh. "Ah, woman, must I tell you all my trade secrets?"

"You're an idiot," I stated firmly, because I never had a problem saying what I thought. "I could care less about your trade. I have a little girl to protect here, so there will be no secrets in this house, not from my family. Fucking talk!"

"Don't hate, lady. It's not as bad as you think. I'm a handsome, genius man who is simply misunderstood."

I scoffed.

"That's right, darlin'. I have ideas." He tapped his head with his pointer finger. "And I am putting them to work."

"Go on. I can't wait to hear it."

"My brilliance in poker and pool was the beginning—" he started.

"Please spare me the prequel, just get to it; I have things to do." I wasn't about to give him the pleasure of dwelling on his enlightening biography.

"Easy, easy, I was just trying to explain."

"Explain faster! Where did you get this much money?"

"I've been trying to tell you. I play poker, but before that, I do my homework. I only pick fuckers who are loaded, and I make sure that their entertainment doesn't stop at the poker table. I help them move to other things, like trying recreational drugs and meeting some pretty girls." He winked.

"You're disgusting."

"Yeah, they find it out, too. Eventually. Unfortunately for them, it's usually too late." He laughed again.

Although I couldn't stand what he was telling me, I wasn't surprised as I had suspected already that he was engaged in some illegal crap.

"By the time I'm done with them," he continued gleefully, "there are normally a few pictures of them in an envelope, just waiting to be sent to their spouses or bosses, works like a charm every time. This income is way more profitable than hitting up gas stations."

"What the hell are you on about? And you're calling _this_ making money? I can't believe I share the same roof as you."

"Ah, my lady, don't be so high-and-mighty. There's nothing wrong with loving money and wanting a lot of it... Don't you? Weren't you born into it? Do you want to tell me what you did to piss off your 'rents so much that they stripped you of their fortune before you had a chance to become an heiress?"

I felt the blood drain from my face. He'd only been around us for about three months, but he already knew enough to shut me up. It was a painful discovery for me; I bet I had his chatty girlfriend to thank.

"It's none of your goddamn business," I spat and turned away.

"Then what's with the judgment, huh?" He moved closer to me and neared his mouth to my cheek, licking his lips loudly. "You think you're better than me, don't you?"

_Yes! I am better!_ My body started shaking with rage; I could barely hold myself together.

"I earn my living. I'm a businessman, just like your husband _used to_ be, remember those days?"

I took a step back and slapped him—hard—forgetting that I still had a spoon in my hand. It flew across the room, hitting the wall on the opposite side and ricocheting back to my feet. A red angry mark splayed across his cheek, and I hoped it would stay there for a long time as a reminder to this asshole to not ever disrespect my husband again.

He barely flinched. It seemed he was prepared for that exact reaction, deliberately trying to provoke me. He succeeded in rattling me, but I was happy to see that he was no longer laughing. His face was dead serious when he took a sharp breath and stepped in front of me once again.

His cold gray eyes briefly scanned my face and moved down to study the lifeless locks of hair on my shoulder. He took one and unceremoniously rubbed it between his fingers. I stiffed at his touch, ready to pounce again if he tried anything funny. His crinkled nose and subsequent sigh shattered my heart—yes, I knew that my gorgeous hair was no more, but he couldn't know that, he hadn't known me when I was happy and lively. Releasing his fingers, he checked out my faded jacket that used to be the color of dark cherry and should have never been washed—only dry-cleaned—which was not a possibility for me anymore.

Taking my hand with the money still inside my fist, he turned to face the back of my hand, examining the cheap ring on my finger, which gleamed without reflecting the light from the kitchen window. He was looking me straight in the eye while uncurling my tight hold and taking the money away from me. I gasped. My hand grasped at empty air while he stepped away from me with a rueful, nauseating smile plastered to his face. The money disappeared before I could blink.

I loathed this man just like I loathed a lot of other things in my life that I didn't have control over and had no hope to overcome. But I promised myself, as I did at the store when I couldn't buy a simple personal hygiene product, that I wouldn't cry. I was so tired of crying.

"So tell me, sister, who here helps you with your rent?"

It was a rhetorical question since we both knew that he had paid most of our rent for the last two months.

He slurped a large chunk of avocado from the knife before putting it down and reaching behind his back. The wad of money magically appeared in his hand again, and I watched him twirl it between his fingers and snap the rubber band off the bundle. The bills blossomed into a large green bloom in his extended hand. "All of it could be yours. Do you want it?"

Entranced, I froze, relying on the kitchen counter for support, unable to take my eyes off the money. He stepped closer and waved the bills right in front of my face, asking again, "Do. You. Want this money?"

I scowled, feeling my heart scorching in my heaving chest. My heart was right—it was wisely warning me to keep my mouth zipped and turn away from this evil. But wasn't it my heart that also told me five years ago to give up on my parents and lavish life in Boston and follow my husband here? Look where it got me. My poor, misguided heart.

I heard Bree fussing through the baby monitor. I stilled in a trained motion, trying to decipher whether it meant that she was waking up or was just having a bad dream. My girl was capable of dreaming, I was sure of it.

"That's right, darlin', think of the one person who deserves the best care. You _need_ the money. Your daughter can't survive without it. You know it."

How could I be so selfish?_ So self-righteous._

What I believed as right wasn't important, my Bree was important. I had no one to rely on anymore, no one to guide me, to give me a hand. My husband was too wrapped up in his idea of finding another well-paid job, and he was so obsessed with it that he kept passing on all other opportunities. How could I ask him to work at the local bank as a teller when he used to manage the branches in the entire region? I knew he was trying. At least he was making an effort by getting up every morning, putting on his best tie and shiny shoes and disappearing for the day. He believed that spending coffee breaks and lunches with his old buddies would eventually help him to score his dream job. I had lost that hope long time ago. I just didn't have the guts to tell him about it because I knew that it was all that was holding him together—hope. He didn't know how else to be useful; he was the man of the family, and I was his little housewife.

As a result, all I had now was me alone here every day. I was stuck paying bills, or mostly looking for ways to avoid paying them, and worrying about Bree's deteriorating health, knowing that it was only my strength and unwavering faith that kept her alive and breathing on her own.

As if he felt the change in my thoughts, he went on to taunt me, "Isn't Bree on oxygen a lot? How are her lungs today? How is her muscle tone? Aren't you worried that it will be too late if you don't get her the right care? It's been eleven months, girl. The time is running out for your daughter."

I couldn't hold the tears. He knew where it hurt the most and kept jabbing in sharp, perfectly aimed punches, leaving me breathless.

I tried to speak, but the tears were choking me. I wrung my wrists, hopeless, accepting the painful truth that I was losing this battle because I would do anything for my little girl.

We both already knew the outcome of this fight, but in my attempt to defend my awful decision I still whispered, "There is a new device, which is not FDA approved. With the right money I can get it. I did all the research, and I found the right people who can ship it to us from Mexico. It will make a huge difference in Bree's quality of life."

"So, you need a load of money, and I know where to get it. For now…" He handed me the curled bills, and when I didn't reach to accept it, he grabbed my arm and forced them into my hand. I didn't look him in the eyes when I squeezed my fingers, crumpling the money, feeling it burning my skin.

"I know it's not enough to cure her, but if you help me, we can make Bree's life as good as it can be. Will you help me?"

Would I help him? I could care less about him. I was determined to help my family, not him.

I jutted my chin out and finally looked him in the eye. If we were in it together now, I might as well accept the responsibility and face the person who was about to become my partner, though I had only a vague idea of exactly what crimes I would have to commit to become financially stable again. Still, I nodded—my mind was made up, I was ready.

"Good, very good." He smiled wide. "I knew you'd come around. For Bree."

I nodded again, wordlessly, feeling the tears rolling down my face. I felt so cold, and it seemed as if the wet tracks on my face were boiling my skin, forever leaving an evidence of my fall.

"So, here's the deal, lady, we need to get the family behind us. You know I can't do it alone. This is too big even for me; I'll be the first to admit it. Your brother-in-law with his coding skills, if used right, could make us tons of money. Your husband has some connections left at the bank." I looked at him, terrified. "Okay, strike that. I'll take care of the connections. But he knows the system, it's gotta be beneficial to us somehow. And your man is strong. He can knock a building down, if needed." There went that creepy, goose bump-inducing laugh again.

"Here's how we go about it. You talk to your men. I'm sure it won't be difficult to convince your brother-in-law to get on your side; just remind him what a loser he is, and what he did to Bree." He chuckled. "As for your husband, we all know that he is eating out of your hand. This should be easy!"

I was sure I looked disgusted. It was painful to maintain the neutral expression on my face while I tried to forcefully push my lips into a semblance of a smile. I had to work on getting used to my new role, though I wasn't fooling anyone in the room. He didn't need my smile; he knew exactly what I thought, and what was more disturbing was he knew exactly what to say to push me further.

"Stem cell research, remember? Something you believe in, but can't try with Bree—" He reminded me. It looked like he paid more attention to my research ramblings and plans than I was giving him credit for.

"What? I'm a patient man. I wait, I listen, I look for the right opportunity. Did you think that I didn't pay attention?" He laughed.

I looked at him long and hard; he was not looking away either.

"There is so much you could do to make a difference. There are a lot more kids like Bree—you could help others out."

Yet another stroke in the right direction. Did he think that donating dirty money to others would expel us from hell or buy our way out? Of course it wouldn't, but I had one little person who needed me the most, who looked at me with her father's eyes, trusting me to provide the best care money _could_ buy.

I wasn't ready to discuss charities, but I was determined to try to make my family whole again. Because, truth to be told, I didn't know how much longer we could hold on to each other in our current state.

I looked around my dingy kitchen, then at the colorful display of the food on the table, and finally at the dirty spoon at my feet. Bending over to pick it up, I had a vision of Bree holding it on her own, smiling at me and telling me, "Chicken noodle soup is my favorite, Mama."

That was something to live for. I believed with all my heart that I could help my little girl to grow up and be healthy again. She just needed assistance from the people who owed it to her. Her uncle was first on the list. I looked forward to reminding him _how much_ he owed us, and I wasn't planning on making it easy for him. I wanted him to suffer, like my Bree did, and felt no guilt about it. My husband would be next. I wasn't above pushing them both in the right direction. I finally had a plan.

I looked back at the person who pulled me into this trap. He had his own agenda that I didn't care about, but this was my opportunity as well, and I was glad that it fell into my lap. I was tired and wanted some relief from the stress, from the constant splitting headache, from the never ending desperation eating at me. Wasn't I smart enough to know when to stop? If this fucker could make this work for himself, why wouldn't it work for us, too? I would make sure that I had a say on what we would do and how, and as long as my daughter could benefit from it, I didn't care about the rest anymore. I just wanted to pay the goddamn bills and get the right care for her. Was it such a big crime?

Was it such a big crime that I wanted long hot showers, a blueberry pie, and Chinese food? So my dreams weren't grand, but who the hell could tell me they weren't mine to happen?

However big or small, I suddenly realized that it was all within my reach. I just needed to bend a little. It wouldn't hurt me, at least not as much as I was hurting all these long months watching my family falling apart. This sacrifice was worth it, so I shook my head in agreement and said, making sure my voice was strong, "Okay."

A satisfied grin broke out on his face. "That's what I'm talking about! And don't worry, I will take care of my girlfriend. That one is the easiest of them all, actually," he added quickly to show me that he had thought it through.

I narrowed my eyes at him, with a wordless question, to which he sighed. "I care about her. I do. I know you do too, and I promise not to fuck it up. I have been on my best behavior so far, and Christ, it hasn't been easy with this girl…

"What? Don't look at me like that!" he exclaimed when I cocked my eyebrow. "She is not the best piece of ass I ever had, but I've never been in a relationship where the girl didn't ask for squat from me. Every one of them always wanted something. This one looks at me like I'm some kind of a saint and I like it. First time in my life I can say that I don't want to fuck it up. Just like Bree, she deserves the best, so I have to make sure she is on my side. But hey, you'll need to push her a little too—play on her weak side. It's no secret she has one. She wouldn't want to be dumped like a sack of potatoes again."

"You are heartless," I spat at him. "All that sweet talk is worth nothing. I fucking hate your guts, but I'll go with it because you and I both know I'm desperate."

"I honestly don't give a fuck what you think of me. Frankly, this is not the main question here. The main question is do you need the money for your daughter? And the answer is fuck yes. So, hate me, love me, who cares? You're now my Head of Operations. We'll do this together, and you know, something tells me that at the end you'll enjoy it."

"Fuck you, I'm not like you. It's not about power to me, and it's bigger than just doing it for Bree. I hate this situation, I need it fixed. And after all we've been through I want some sort of retaliation. This will be it."

"Girl, you're making me all hot. That's what I'm talking about!" He rubbed his hands together. "Fuck, I can't wait. You and I will make a history."

It was a terrible prospect, but with one short 'okay' I signed my life away, and I had a feeling that the grip he got on me was unbreakable.

His next words only proved it. "But just to make it clear: if you or someone from your family decides to even so much as to make a peep about me to someone outside of our circle here, I will take all of you down with me. Bree will spend the rest of her short life at some pathetic orphanage with twenty other retarded kids. Hell, if you don't take me up on my offer and leave things the way they are now—"

His cruel words made me see red again. How dare he? Seeing that, he shook his head and changed his tune, "Hey, I'm your solution, woman. I'm giving you a way out, and I'm glad you're smart enough to take it."

"Do you realize how ugly you are?" I asked with resignation. " In and out. I don't know what any girl would see in you. Get out of my face."

"Awww, missy, double-standards much?" He chuckled.

He relaxed against the kitchen counter, eyes gazing at me, with smug expression on his face. "That's fine. You made your feelings known, and since we have an understanding, I won't push my luck. We're cool. Wanna shake hands to seal the deal?"

"Don't touch me," I snarled. "I'll talk to the guys, like I promised. I make no guarantees, but if it's within my power, they'll agree. For now, you have me and my word. I'm in."

Bree was coughing and this one time I was glad to hear the sound of it. On my way out, I grabbed a large, deep red strawberry from the plastic green basket and brought it to my nose, smelling its sweet, strong aroma before popping it in my mouth.

The money in my hand, though, had no smell. It was just the means to an end, and there was no one who could convince me otherwise. I had my personal world in the next room counting on my protection, and I finally knew what I was doing—I smirked to myself, chewing. I wasn't a woman to mess with anymore.

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**A/N: Any guesses? I'd love to hear what you think.**

**Did you know that I have a thread on Twilighted? We can chat there.**

**Next Chapter is EPOV.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	9. Chapter 8 Pound Foolish

**A/N: Thank you for all the support and reviews!**

**Sinnerman has been featured/reviewed on 'TwiFic Promotions' blog this week, my gratitude goes to the ladies of that site who find the time to read, review and promote the 'less known' fics. Thank you!**

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* * *

xxx

_"Focus, brains, and a bit of luck are all we need," he repeated, like I needed a fucking lecture. "Nothing else matters. We're golden, man!" he declared exuberantly and reached to pat my shoulder._

_I jerked back to avoid the contact. The suffocating grip of anger threatened to choke me. I needed to walk away._

_"Look out for my text. I'll see you in a few," Jasper shouted after me._

_"I wish it was never," I muttered, too low for him to hear._

_I wished I could walk away for good._

xxx

**Chapter 8**

**Pound Foolish**

**_EPOV_**

_A week later_

I was determined to be productive today. Rolling up the long sleeves of my shirt, I concentrated on the screen, assessing how much work I had to get done.

Cropping pictures and printing them out was a piece of cake. What I had to do before and after required some time and skill. I studied the stolen badge, paying special attention to the background and the size of the picture. Little details mattered—everything from replicating the font to the spelling. Some places made it short; some preferred to dwell on their titles and department names. God forbid I used "IT" instead of "Information Technology Department". I had all the equipment to print and laminate the ID badges and a stack of HID cards I purchased on-line. Once I finished making the badges, I'd have to use a little program I wrote to duplicate the unique signature on the magnetic strip of HIDs.

My work was cut out for me. All I had to do was get it done, and yet I sat there staring at Jasper's picture on the screen, loathing the face smiling back at me. My despise for him took a sharp turn for the worse recently. Was it because I knew I was getting involved with him more and more against my better judgment or because he seemingly upped his effort in getting under my skin—I couldn't say. It didn't matter. What mattered was I couldn't stand being around him, deal with him, work with him, and yet, I couldn't escape it.

I looked at the stack of virginally white plastic cards, waiting to be printed, and then back on the screen.

Fuck it, I couldn't do it. Not right now. With a sigh, I flipped between the programs on the screen, minimizing the window with the picture—my assignment would have to wait. Instead, I opened a new tab in my browser and typed in the search engine line: "Forks, Washington".

I was familiar with the town but never had any reasons to look it up. It was tiny—a population of just over three thousand people, and named after the forks of the several nearby rivers. The sagging city's economy was mostly supported by visitors to the Olympic National Park. It had first become a popular place to settle because of the abundant fishing and lodging opportunities there. Now the ads were all about the finer points of wilderness hiking and recreational fishing, and that was pretty much it—hardly an attraction.

But it was to me. Because the girl named Bella lived there. I shifted in my seat. In the absolute silence of the room, the creaking sound of the chair under me made me look behind my shoulder, as if I was doing something illegal in thinking about finding her. As if I could get her out of my head even if it was.

Forks was only about thirty miles away from me, less than a half an hour drive.

I switched the screen back and stared at the picture in the photo editor some more. Jasper was still smirking at me. I often blamed him for everything wrong in my life, although in truth, all he did was pushed my buttons. I let him. Why? I knew why.

The answer was in the acidic taste in my mouth, in the stale air in my room, and in the distant sound of the spoon scraping against the pan in the kitchen. It was called _despair_.

And now I craved distraction.

I knew her name was Bella. She was the daughter of a police officer, and they lived in Forks. Bella was most likely in high school. That was enough information to start.

Discarding the photo editor screen, I went back to the browser window and typed "Forks High School," in the search box. I clicked on the link to the school's official website, trying to see what I could find out about their students. Not much to fish out of there. _Home of the fucking Spartans_. At least the school was located right in town, which meant I could easily find what I was looking for.

I didn't have to pretend anymore, I was going to go look for Bella. I wasn't planning on talking to her_, _though. I just wanted to see her again, even if from a distance. There wasn't any harm in that, and I was sure that as soon as I checked her out, the wicked spell this girl seemed to have on me would be broken once and for all.

_Bella._

Was it her full first name? I didn't think so...

_Isabella?_

The name sounded almost poetic. I didn't need Bella's full name to see her from afar, but I still wanted to know. There was a sure way to find out—I could look up her father. I snorted to myself—there was a game I would enjoy. I had the means to find any cop in any city in this state within minutes.

Alright. I rubbed my fingers against the desk. The light in the room flickered and became a little brighter, which meant Emmett was done using his power tools in the basement. I could bet he was further along with the shit he had been assigned. I didn't care—I had something else in mind. My new idea was far riskier than hacking into the high school student database, but the thought of it excited me that much more.

Very shortly, I was in the database, searching through the names of the employees of the Forks, Washington Police Department, via the rogue access point we had recently planted in one of the police station's networks. After narrowing down the search criteria by ethnicity, age and gender, I was certain I found who I was looking for. Bella's father wasn't just your regular cop. As it turned out, Bella's father was the Chief of Police. His name was Charles Swan.

_Jasper is gonna flip._

Not that I would ever share with him what I was doing this evening instead of preparing the fake access keys. _Bella Swan_—I smiled—the beautiful brown-eyed girl, who smelled like candy and had the ferocity of a small natural disaster. I couldn't wait any longer; I had to go see her.

xxx

"Do not say a word. Just walk away," I growled at Alice, who was hovering wordlessly behind me, reminding me about the one thing I would never admit to myself or say out loud. Jasper was right—I had been too distracted lately; I couldn't focus for shit.

I heard Alice sigh and quietly exit my room. That was a very good, very timely decision. My sister was a smart cookie, always knowing when to step aside, too bad she ended up a total pushover.

I tried to remember back to when we were kids – Alice had been so strong and resolute for such a little person. I always thought that it was a way for nature to compensate—by inserting a spirit so fierce and strong into such a tiny, delicate body. If you asked Ali, she would disagree vehemently about her fragility. She liked to be perceived as iron-willed and gutsy. And those who knew her also knew better than to argue. Ali was fourteen months younger than me, but even though she was smaller and younger, she never hesitated to combat someone if it came to a situation where I was concerned. We used to laugh about how many times Ali tried to get into a fist fight over something irrelevant, like me wanting to watch "The Flintstones" cartoon while some older boy in an aftercare school tried to switch a channel to something else. There was the one time that Ali broke a toe attempting to kick one kid's ass when he accidentally knocked me down in the hallway. We used to talk and laugh about those old days; we hadn't done it in really long time now. Things had changed for us.

Pushing the keyboard away, I sprung to my feet and started pacing the room.

Nothing was helping lately. I was smoking more than ever. A couple of cigarettes a day used to be enough to calm my nerves; I was up to a half a fucking pack now. I had been waking up every morning with an aching jaw hurting from grinding my teeth in my sleep. That was a habit which had also gotten progressively worse over the years, though it had never been as bad as it was lately.

But the most serious problem I had been experiencing lately was that I couldn't concentrate on my assignments. That shit wasn't something I could ever treat lightly. I had stared at the computer screen for at least two hours before Alice came to my room to ask if I was ready to meet the guys downstairs. I wasn't ready. I had nothing to show for my work.

I knew that Jasper would be mad at me again, and in his true fashion, he'd try to humiliate me, making me feel like a loser. Alice would run down asking what was wrong, and we'd end up fighting because I couldn't tell her. I hated the fucking predicament I was in. I couldn't look into Rose's angry eyes, permanently rimmed in red. Rose used to be so vibrant, so starkly beautiful. She was still exquisite, but the vivaciousness was long gone. And Emmett, my older brother, the person I always looked up to... He used to be my rock, my idol, my best friend. He didn't yell or slam the door on the way out like Rose did every time. He would just let out a quiet, despondent sigh and leave the basement room where we normally got together for our brainstorming and planning.

Emmett would not say a word to me anymore; he never pushed me, never blamed me for my fucked up ways. That was what killed me every fucking time. I sometimes wanted to shake him, tell him to wake the hell up. I thought that I would prefer it if he went berserk on me one day—let everything out that he had been holding in for the last three years. I wanted him to kick the living shit out of me, curse me, tell me to leave and never come back. If that could help him to snap out of his desolation, I would take it. That would be a million times better than to see my brother give up.

I looked at the table, knowing that I had to sit back down and finish what I was supposed to do for the sake of my family and because there wasn't any other way for me to make it right. But first, I needed to get out of the house, get some fresh air, and bring myself back in the right state of mind. On my way through the living room, I muttered to Rose that I was going to step out for a while. She glared at me.

"Try not to kill yourself on that stupid bike of _yois_. And don't count on me serving you a dinnah when you decide to come back. I ain't your maid, Edward."

I clenched my teeth, feeling sharp pain shooting straight into my brain, and I nodded. I had no right to argue with Rose. She, in return, had every justification to tell me to get out of her face. So I did. I removed my jacket and helmet from the closet by the entrance door and turned to her. "How is she..?" I asked.

Rose interrupted me with a sigh, "She is sleeping, Edward. Go. And I'm serious. I'd prefer that you didn't have any broken bones when you make it back home, a-ight? Be caye-ful." She chastised me in her Bostonian accent and gave me a tight smile.

Was she worried that if I broke my neck I wouldn't be able to finish my job, or did she actually care about me? There was a time when I didn't have to question Rose's motives. The thought was painful to bear.

My only friend as of late—the only one without expectations—was patiently waiting for me in the carport on the side of the house. Crossing the yard, I made it to my bike and knelt before it. It wasn't just old, it was 'hard-to-find', and considering the care I was providing for it, it was worth a lot. This bike was the only luxury item I allowed myself to keep after we lost everything else.

When things started turning around, Alice bought a Volvo on my name. I refused to use it. I didn't earn it in the first place, so I only drove it to chaperone others in the family.

I checked the tires on the bike, poured some more gasoline into the tank in case I'd need to make a longer trip, and wheeled it outside. I needed to stop lying to myself about the purpose of my rides. I was going to make a trip to a small town called Forks again, and yes, the only reason I was going there was the Chief of Police's daughter, Bella Swan.

xxx

The visits to Forks were quickly becoming my fix, though I promised to myself not to dig around too deep. There was no denying that I had already violated too many rules by simply being in the same town with her and walking the same streets as she did. It was already enough that I knew where Bella worked, what kind of car she drove, and the color of the curtains in her bedroom.

I still didn't know exactly how old she was or whether she had a boyfriend. That was the part of her life I chose not to pry into. In truth, I simply didn't want to face the fact that Bella was, most likely, a minor, and had a personal life that I had no right to be concerned with.

I had Jasper to thank for something, though. There was that flyer to the "indie writers" workshop he had given me, which was happening in two days. He might have made fun of me for wanting to go, but the asshole knew what he was doing. I had to make some sort of amends with him for that.

The good news was the event didn't require a special invitation. The workshop was for everyone, and I had the same right to be there as anyone else. It was too optimistic of me to think that Bella would be there, but something was telling me that this was my only real chance to see this girl without being a creep. So, I've come to a resolution; I was going to that event, and even if Bella refused to talk to me, at least I would have a reason to be next to her for an hour or two. I didn't dare to think beyond that.

xxx

I had been to this Port Angeles street mall on more than one occasion, and was somewhat of a frequent visitor to that same book store and the music shop next door. People knew me at the cafe across the street as well, though Jasper warned me a million times not to make friends with locals and not to become a regular wherever I decided to go, but I loved the routine and needed some sense of stability in my life, otherwise I knew I would lose my shit, not that it wasn't happening already.

I watched Bella window shopping and then as she moved down the street towards the book store. She wore tight, dark jeans, a white t-shirt and black sneakers. She looked very casual and insanely cute. Her bag jumped on her back with each step. The gray sky loomed low over the city; the rain was about to start again. The sparse rays of sun peering through the clouds reflected on Bella's shiny chestnut hair. The long locks of her hair swished against her shoulders in a cascade of rich waves. I hoped she had a jacket or something in that bag of hers, I didn't want her to get wet and cold.

A fantasy clouded my vision, disagreeing—Bella stood before me while the rain was penetrating the t-shirt she had on, wetting her delicate form and making the white transparent. I hardened, imagining the dark circled areolas of her breasts and a shadow of her belly button showing through the fabric.

Groaning quietly, I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Placing my elbows on the table, I clasped a mug of already cold coffee in my hands. I had been sitting on the patio of the coffee shop across the street from the book store for far too long. I'd been waiting here for Bella for hours.

_Bella did show up_. This realization made me feel anxious and hopeful at the same time. There was no way I would approach her in Forks. I wasn't going to lie—the thought did cross my mind more than once as I watched her from a distance. But what kind of explanation could I provide while "accidentally" bumping into her?

"Oh hello, Bella, how nice to see you, I was just passing by."

Yeah, right. Like _that _would fly. Why not just tell her the truth—I was fucking stalking her and enjoying every moment of it? Why not just tell her that she was like a drug to me?

If I wanted to get closer to Bella, this was the right place to do it. Neutral territory. Even though our previous run-in wasn't exactly a pleasant experience for either of us—thanks to our friends— I had no idea how she'd react seeing me again. When Bella walked into the store, I made myself wait for a minute before sprinting across the street. I lingered a few feet away from the entrance to finish my cigarette before going in. That one didn't help. I had to light another and spend a few more minutes steeling my resolve.

_Here goes nothing._

I walked through the door, greeted by the chime. The store wasn't very crowded, but Bella was nowhere around. For a moment I panicked, thinking I somehow missed her, but I was watching the door like a hawk, so I'd have seen if she had left. I walked, almost ran, checking the aisles before I spotted her talking to a clerk. I immediately backed away. Shit. Did she see me? Didn't I want her to see me?

I was here to see her. And maybe talk to her, if she let me.

_Calm down, Cullen. What are you, seventeen? No? Then stop acting like one._

I made a few more steps back, and tried to smooth my hair. Like that was possible.

I listened to Bella's voice discussing something with the clerk and somehow it helped to calm me.

My helmet was still in my hand since I couldn't trust leaving it with the bike outside. I glanced quickly at the counter, and the memory of me and Jasper arguing there three weeks ago rushed to my mind. I spent hours drinking at the bar after leaving the store. By the time Jasper showed up I was obliterated, the fucker didn't see that one coming. It was the perfect revenge. He drove the Volvo home, completely sober and mad as fuck at me for ruining his fun, since he was the one who planned to get loaded.

The girl at the cash register looked like they could be trusted. I put on my best smile, flashing teeth, and asked her, "Could you please be so kind and keep my helmet behind the counter for a little while?"

She looked at me like a deer in the headlights.

"Miss, the helmet," I requested again, placing it on the top of the counter. The cup with the pens was still there, and I started thinking about how Bella had touched one of them. My dick twitched in my pants. Fuck, I _was_ obsessed with her, and that was a scary thought.

"Shh-sure, I can do that," the girl finally stuttered out. "I'll put it inside of this cabinet, sir." My helmet was safely stashed away.

_Sir._ I sure as fuck wasn't a respected enough citizen to be called that. But my age, I guessed, allowed that assumption, especially coming from a teenage girl.

_Like Bella._

_Shit. Bella!_

I quickly moved back to the aisles, finding her small form in a sitting position on the floor with her head down, the white cords of the iPod tangled in her hair. She was immersed in a book. I didn't dare to distract her for the longest time.

When I did, I was rewarded with a fierce blush and a shy smile. Her eyes were wide and cautious.

It was a bad idea. I shouldn't be here. I should have stayed as far away as possible from this girl. I knew it, but it didn't stop me. I lowered myself down to the same level as her eyes, taking in her features and watching as she sank her teeth into that lower lip that looked so delicious.

It felt good to sit next to her. An energy charged between us was too strong to resist. The feeling only grew stronger when I touched her hand. It was so powerful, I forgot how fucked up I was. I was back being a teenage boy who liked a girl. A lot. And all signs pointed to the fact that the girl liked me back. Except, it wasn't right.

Our conversation went from warm and engaging to confrontational in a span of several minutes. Bella had confirmed her age and declared that she had nothing to hide. These two small facts only proved the abysmal difference between us. I proceeded to be cruel. She didn't know it, but it was more to punish myself than anything else. But I wasn't in a state to rationalize it; I was too busy building a wall between us in order to protect this sweet, naive girl.

xxx

Angry and devastated, I watched Bella squeeze between me and the bookshelf as she avoided any contact with me like I was the plague. But I fucking deserved it. Hurting someone was something I had managed to perfection. It was only natural that I should be hurt as well.

And yet, when I saw her standing at the table with a white plastic cup between her delicate fingers, looking deflated and sad, blowing at her coffee and pursing her plump pink lips, I was mesmerized. I watched her, wistful and awestruck. I kept reminding myself that she was only seventeen… Was it too young? Too young for what? For seeing me? Maybe even dating me a little? Maybe I could wait for her, I could be patient. But I didn't have time to wait. My time could be up quite possibly tomorrow or next week. Just like the first time when I saw this girl three weeks ago, I knew now that I had no right to have her, and once again, I felt defeated and hopeless. I almost turned and left the store.

A boy her age approached Bella and they started talking. It was painfully evident to me that he liked her. All I could think at that moment was "_Mine!_" She was fucking mine!

And then I knew that I had to give it a chance. I wouldn't allow her or myself to get too close, but at least I could get to know someone who was not part of my fucked up broken family. I would never let them near this girl. I was a savage, but still, I needed something in my life to survive. And maybe she was it—my hope. Maybe I could try to be normal for her, too.

I felt almost ecstatic when the little punk left her alone. _That's right, boy, get the fuck out. This girl does not belong to you. She is already taken; she just doesn't know it yet_.

I fixed the scowl of possessiveness on my face into an indifferent mask. Sooner rather than later, Bella would turn and look at me again; I had to be prepared, I couldn't scare her away. My heart was racing. This challenge was better and scarier than any exhilarating experience I had had in my fucked up life so far, and I had done and went through some extreme shit already. Shit that changed me and molded me into what I was now. Therefore, I knew I had what it took to keep it together and make the girl mine. She was clearly inexperienced, and I wanted her like nothing I ever wanted before. Where there was a will there was a way.

I spoke too soon. There was a complication. When Bella finally faced the room and spotted me staring at her, she looked nothing like the frail, sad girl that left me back at the bookshelf. I knew then that I underestimated her. Her furious glare forced me to stay still where I was. I remembered again the words of her friend who compared Bella to a tornado. Oh yes, what an infuriating, beautiful little vortex she was, indeed. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to be as close as I could get to that glorious, debilitating, intense force she carried within herself. It was quite possible that it would be the other way around—it wouldn't be me working my way to her heart, but rather Bella having me wrapped around her little finger, if only she desired so.

The guy in the lounge began the seminar, and I had to concentrate because something was telling me that this was important to Bella. The expression on her face changed from angry to longing when he asked about inspirations in life. What inspired a person like me? There was a time when I was a bright, ambitious college student. With a promising future. The people in this room were probably all smart and ambitious. They all had their exciting futures awaiting them, while I had been going down-fucking-hill for a long time now.

Still, I couldn't resist, because I couldn't take my eyes off Bella. She was the sweetest prize of them all, even though I was poison and did not deserve her. I didn't feel like it, but I accepted the host's challenge, for Bella, so I started talking about my childhood. I wasn't ashamed of myself when I was five. Even though now, at twenty five, shame and guilt were all I knew and felt about myself.

Then came the questions; how I did not see it coming? Before I knew it, I was interrogated on my current state of affairs. If only they knew that my affairs were sinful, dark, and illegal. The ones you get fifteen to life for. This was what I was thinking about when Bella came to my rescue. She wanted to, I could see it. I allowed myself to imagine Bella as my savior, while knowing that accepting her was probably my worst sin of all. The possibility dumbfounded me.

Bella continued to talk, now steadily. And at first, it didn't dawn on me that it wasn't a story she was telling, she was reciting a poem. She was looking down while speaking; I could see her hands slightly shaking, but her voice was loud and clear. The first words didn't register with me, as I was more concerned with Bella looking like she was in pain, but as she went on, something changed within her. I saw a confident, strong girl, in her element. She was talking with passion.

_"I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough_

_to be to you just object and thing,_

_dark and smart."_

The words churned around Bella, not disappearing, but rather landing like fast, deadly bullets, each of them hitting me, spilling not blood but the black venom that ran through my veins. Looking at her, I knew that by reciting that poem she was describing herself. Those words were about her, and I felt the shame of my earlier possessiveness punch me in gut like a thousand pound fist.

_"Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;_

_for there I would be dishonest, untrue."_

Oh, but Bella, it was _I_ who was crooked and bent. And it hurt to admit, even to myself, that there was nothing honest and true about me. I could stand there and pretend that somehow, by some miracle, I could be graced by forgiveness and could have another chance in decent life. But I couldn't turn the time back. There wasn't a magic wand or holy water that could repair the harm I had done to myself and to the people I loved. I was damned, no question about it. How could I dare to ruin another soul?

_I have to leave before it's too late_, I thought frantically. Bella was innocent; she had life ahead of her—a _promising future_. I had no right to claim her, because I would do nothing but damage her.

I looked at the sweet, precious girl, who was pouring her heart in front of the crowd that I hoped was appreciating her effort. Deep down, I hoped that she was reading that poem for me. I was thankful that she kept her eyes down and prayed that if she was sharing a part of her herself with _me,_ that she would forgive me for what I was about to do.

I wasn't capable of being that regular guy next door, but the least I could do was keep Bella away from the monster I actually was.

Before I could change my mind, I turned around and left the store.

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**A/N: Thank you for reading.**


	10. Chapter 9 Redraw

**A/N: The response I had received to my last chapter was overwhelming. Thank you to everyone who keeps reading, reviewing and putting me on alerts for this story! And hello new readers!**

**Special thanks to twitchling, my beta number 1. I missed you! Rags88, your comments and help with betaing this chapter are greatly appreciated! Books, love you.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight. I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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xxx

_It was time to deal with the consequences. Bracing myself for further comments and praying I could exit gracefully, if needed, I raised my head. Focusing my eyes, I trained them on the spot where Edward stood earlier, only to find it empty. He was no longer in the lounge or anywhere around. Edward was gone._

_The air escaped my lungs with a sharp, audible hiss, leaving me feeling like a deflected balloon – small, futile, used. Stunned and crushed, I blurted out an apology, and before anyone could speak to me, I ran out of the bookstore._

xxx

**Chapter 9**

**Redraw**

_**BPOV**_

I almost tripped on my way out. It was a miracle I had managed some grace and stayed up-right. Reaching the curb, I doubled over, first holding to the lamp post with one hand, and when that didn't help, I placed both palms on my knees and took several deep breaths to keep from puking. Fortunately, all I had this afternoon was two sips of coffee, otherwise there would be a scene for the onlookers to enjoy.

Blinded and hurt by humiliation, I forgot for a moment where I was. The reminder came with the sound of the door closing behind me with a pleasant chime. There was nothing pleasant in the sound escaping from my chest. When the wave of nausea finally abated, and the ground stopped spinning, I sat down on the curb, hugging my knees.

What had just happened to me? How could I allow myself, normally so private and reserved, to open up so wide and leave myself completely unprotected? What was I thinking sharing myself with complete strangers? And letting that jerk get to me, make me think that we had something in common, that he could understand me?

I swatted away angry tears. I no longer felt helpless, I was fuming, and I was glad, because anger was a lot better than senseless pitying myself.

With that resolution, I felt a little better. Well enough to start thinking somewhat straight and to look around. People moved around, not paying me any attention. Good. The music store sign jumped into my sight when I turned to my right. I scowled. Well, let us hope _the jerk_ was enjoying himself in there. Where was the brick I wished to throw right through that dusty window? Surely, Daddy would bail me out in case I got arrested for this. If I had it in me, I would've laughed at the humor of my thoughts.

My musings skipped to Jessica. I wished she was here to make fun of the situation, but she wasn't, because I made that choice. And no matter how mad I was, I couldn't fail Charlie. Violence wasn't an answer, of course, but then the empty feeling in my stomach wasn't exactly welcome, either.

I paused in the middle of the walkway, lost again. Where to now? Home? I couldn't imagine myself sitting in my truck again so soon. In Febreze-filled, oil-dripping, double-pump-the-clutch car of mine. The Chevy was great—sturdy, if not indestructible, and a safe ride—every father's dream first car for a teenager. But I'd wished I had something else to drive sometimes. Something fast as the wind. Aggressive. Responsive. Something that had an FM radio, for goodness' sake!

I decided to walk. Away from the stores, from the crowd, just away. There was also a quick thought of making an escape on a ferry to Canada. I was still a big, fat, yellow chicken, apparently—thinking about running away as soon as I had a boy trouble. But Edward, I reminded to myself, wasn't a boy. And he surely wasn't mine to have a trouble with. I was simply delusional.

The clouds sat low in a quickly darkening sky. I knew what that meant. When it started to drizzle again, I sighed and pulled my hair back into a sloppy pony tail since there was no point of prettifying myself anymore.

Making a decision on a whim, I crossed the street and started walking in the opposite direction from the stores and from where my truck was parked. I headed over to the spot I had found a month ago by the Olympic Discovery trail—the Waterfront trail was gorgeous and normally not crowded, compare to the busy Ferry terminal.

Standing at the stop sign of the intersection of the 1st street and Lincoln, I stared blindly ahead and waited for cars to pass, when I heard an approaching guttural, thunderous sound. Before I had an opportunity to process it, the shiny black two-wheeled beauty dove into a halt in front of me, blocking my path. The roar was replaced by a muffled crackle, and I watched as the pale hand with the long fingers pressed control levers on the chrome handlebar, stilling the bike, while the black boot shifted from the pedal next to the shimmering silver pipes to step on the ground. There was no doubt this beauty drove fast. And I wouldn't care if it had a stereo installed in it at all, the sound of the wind passing by would be the prettiest music to my ears, if this ride was mine. I must have been completely stupefied, because for a moment I imagined that it was a knight in a gleaming dark armor and a glossy black helmet that was sent to rescue me from my crappy day. Of course I was stupefied! Otherwise I would have recognized the owner of the bike immediately. I groaned. It was a knight, alright.

"What now, Edward?"

I really didn't mean to ask this question out loud, it just came out. He took his helmet off, freeing the usual blazing mess of his hair, and said, patting the leather backseat behind him, "Now you get on, Bella."

Just like that?

"I'm sorry, is this is joke?" I asked.

This man would be the death of me. One second he was rude and condescending, another—he dumped me in the middle of me reading a poem to him (_stupid, stupid, stupid!_), and now he showed up on this… this… magnificent vehicle and expected me to hop up and drive off with him? Who did he think he was?

I was fuming. I was furious. I was intrigued.

I crossed my arms in a defiant pose and pouted. I bet I looked not older than twelve at the moment—excellent way to prove the ripeness of my age to a twenty-something year old guy, who I didn't care about, decidedly.

"Please put the helmet on and get on the bike, Bella," Edward asked very politely again, and handed his helmet to me. "I'm blocking the access for handicapped."

"Are you kidding me?" Apparently, my confused brain was shrinking and wasn't capable of coming up with any other questions. Frustrated, I made another effort, "You can't appear out of nowhere on this…" I waved, trying in vain to come up with anything remotely dismissive about his Harley "…this monster." _There!_ "And expect me to just happily get on! Why are you even here, Edward?"

"I'll explain, just not here." He pursed his lips, looking at me expectantly. "Bella, please…"

The last words drowned in a cough of the engine.

"No! If you have anything to say, park your Harley and talk to me here." I raised my voice, though I was sure Edward caught every word I was saying, he was watching my lips intently. "I'm not driving with you anywhere."

I jutted my chin out. My mom taught me well about strangers.

Edward glowered at me, like it was I who was confusing and exasperating. He pushed the bike several feet past me, eyeing me cautiously as he went. I rolled mine in a mocked annoyance. I wasn't going to run _now_. I had no desire to. Not when I had a chance to figure out why he had been such an ass to me.

Wheeling it to the curb, Edward slung his long leg over the frame of the bike in one fluid movement and got off. He hung the helmet on the handlebar of the bike and stilled the engine completely. He wasn't going anywhere either. Good. I heard a stifled giggle behind me. Looking back, I spotted a wide-eyed blond girl—about my age—who not only ogled Edward brazenly, but also had an audacity to take a picture of him on the bike with her phone. However in awe she might have been, she still didn't seize the opportunity presented to her—I was sure she'd gotten an awesome shot. I couldn't blame her. I just didn't have the courage like other people to act so forward.

I might have lacked the courage, and I might have been mad at him, but Edward was here, chasing _me_, out of all people, so I must be worth something after all. To prove my point, I glared at the girl and moved closer to Edward. He wasn't mine, but I could be good at pretending.

I watched Edward stepping on the curb, oblivious to the girl behind me. He probably was immune to this constant attention. His ragged jacket was zipped all the way up, black jeans tucked carelessly into the boots, and the laces were not tied all the way up, leaving the tongues folding over. Edward looked like a model—in his hot disheveled biker glory—and all I could do was to stand there, basking in the gaze of his bright green eyes and wait for him to come closer.

"Bella." I saw Edward's perfectly sculptured lips move.

"Mmhmm?" I asked, still mesmerized. "I'm listening," I lied.

_Please don't blush, please don't blush._

Then I blushed.

"Here it is, parked as you asked. Happy?" Edward tilted his head waiting for my response, the glossy black helmet was now resting on the crook of his elbow.

Happy? He had some nerve! I narrowed my eyes at him, months of watching Jessica seemed to be rubbing off. So far, the maturity I had been sporting this afternoon was on a very impressive level. If I hated Jessica doing it so much, it would hardly qualify as cute on me. I sighed; Jessica would probably know what to do at this moment, pulling all the stops. I, as usual, was absolutely clueless. I made a quick internal inventory of my feelings. Confused? Check. Aggravated? Check. Dazzled—the box shaded all the way. The thoughts in my head were spinning and flying in million directions. I had questions, I needed to understand what was happening between me and Edward, what made him so on edge, what brought him here.

"Alright, since you didn't want to drive somewhere quiet and talk..." Edward's voice had pulled me from my thoughts.

Was that a question? Regardless, I had an answer.

"I don't drive around, wherever it is you think your _quiet_ is, with some random people," I retorted. I was turning into a massive bitch.

"Fuck me," Edward groaned, grabbing his hair at the back of his neck. "Frustrating, cantankerous little girl!"

"Cantankerous?" I raised my brow at him, deciding to ignore the fact that he regarded me as a little girl in that same sentence.

"Yes, cantankerous. As in 'combative', 'cross'—" Edward started explaining.

"I know what it means," I interrupted him. "I have a pretty extensive vocabulary. You know, for a _seventeen year_ old."

His eyes tightened. He watched me for a long moment. The expression on his face went from tense and frustrated to curious and mischievous. What was he thinking?

"Bella, do you always try to bite your lip off when you are nervous?" he asked all of a sudden, raising one side of his mouth in a crooked smile I was already so familiar with.

Huh? I quickly unlocked my teeth and licked the spot where I just bit. My burnt tongue appreciated the coolness of the air.

What kind of question was that? He was teasing me, wasn't he? A slight twitch of his mouth was telling me he was. Well, two can play that game.

"Do you always try to scalp yourself when you are uncomfortable?"

_Touché, Bella! _I resisted the desire to reach and pat myself on the back.

"Do you always answer a question with another question?" Apparently, Edward could keep up.

"How old are you?" I could play dirty too. He asked before, why couldn't I?

Edward smoldering green eyes turned dark myrtle color. His hand shot up to his hair, and froze midway when I quirked my brow at him and snorted.

"You're utterly infuriating."

"Oh, yeah? Is that why you tried to kidnap me?" I asked, nodding to his bike parked at the curb. It looked as gorgeous as its owner, and I couldn't lie to myself, I wanted to get a ride on it badly. The image flashed in mind—me, sitting behind Edward on his Harley, with my arms and legs enveloped around him, and hugging him tight, while we conquered the slick road.

Edward whipped his head looking at the bike, then back at me, frowning.

He couldn't read my mind—I told myself—he couldn't know what I was thinking. Not unless I told him, and there was no way I would confess about my semi-sexual fantasy to him. I would freak out and run for the hills if he even suspected.

I narrowed my eyes at him, playing displeased as a diversion tactic.

"What? No. I wasn't trying anything like that!" he said with panic in his voice.

"So, what then? What is it that you want from me?" I asked.

I didn't like the instant sullen expression on his face.

"I am not sure, to be honest…"

That's it? _Not sure_?

"That's your answer?" I shook my head.

Did he try to upset me on purpose? Was there some amusement to it for him?

"You know what, that's fine. Don't bother." I was done feeling like a catnip mouse in the paws of a leisurely playing cat. I wasn't a damn toy.

I fixed the bag on my shoulder. "I gotta go."

"What are you..?" he asked as I pushed my body past him. The zipper of my backpack clattered against the helmet in his hands when I brushed by, deliberately knocking it. "Bella?"

I began walking away.

"Please, wait." He chased after me and gripped my arm.

I stopped and glared at his fingers on my elbow. "Let go of me," I commanded, thankful I still had some control over my voice, an he released my arm instantly.

"I forgot my helmet," he blurted out. "I went back to the store, because I forgot my helmet." There was terror in his eyes, as if he, himself, couldn't believe what he was saying.

I believed him. He was honest, which also meant he didn't come back for _me_. But then…

"I don't understand," I said. "You've got your helmet, didn't you?"

He sheepishly looked down at it. "I guess I did."

"Then why are here? I don't get it."

"I have no fucking idea why!" he exclaimed. "I saw you crying, and I..."

_He saw my defeat earlier._ It was my turn to be terrified.

"I don't want your pity," I whispered; my voice broke.

"No, no. That's not it." He stepped closer, searching my eyes. "I followed you, but not because I felt sorry for you."

I groaned; this conversation was getting more embarrassing and painful by the minute.

He leaned to me. "Bella, it's about to rain. Can we please go somewhere and sit down? There's a place right across the street from the book store," he asked, his eyes pleading.

He pushed his hand into his hair. All strung out, he resembled a drawn bow—taut, on edge, ready to snap at one wrong move. He waited for my reaction, his eyes dancing on my face, smoldering me, as if his entire well-being depended on my next words.

I hugged myself. "You can walk me to my car if you want." That was all I could offer, my usual protective shield already slammed down.

I watched disappointment crossing Edward's features. He closed his eyes, hiding blazing green heat, and when he opened them again, the burn was gone.

"Okay. I can do that, too."

I nodded.

And yet, neither of us moved.

The wind picked up, lifting Edward's hair up, creating a bronze halo around his face. He briefly closed his eyes again, opening up to the currents of air, his expression smoothed out. It did begin to rain, the light drizzle quickly turned into the heavy drops of moisture. It started pounding unceremoniously on our heads and shoulders, and I shivered—the wet, again. Edward was right, we needed to get out of the rain, though at this point there was no way we could avoid not getting soaking wet, and my hoodie was left in the truck. Damn it.

Edward brushed the moisture off his forehead, looking at me pensively at first. His gaze moved from my face down my body and became frenzied, turning almost guilty.

Glancing down at my white "Silicon Substitution" T-shirt, I instantly knew why Edward looked like a cat that just ate a canary. The rain soaked my plain top, sticking tightly to my body, leaving nothing to imagination through the wet fabric. _Shit, shit, shit! _The light blue lace of my bra was on display. Jessica would be rejoicing right now—there would be no guessing, nothing to suspect. My nipples were standing at full attention, greeting Edward "hi".

I considered my options, including running away, crying, and dying from embarrassment. My actual reaction surprised even to me. I couldn't stop the rush of the blood heating my face, but I could try to save some dignity here. I narrowed my eyes at Edward, since he was still checking my goods, and slowly, very slowly, retrieved the bag off my back and hugged it, holding it in front of me. I kept watching his face the whole time.

Was it a tint of red filling the base of his cheeks, as well? I liked it. No, scratch that. I decided that I _loved _the idea of making Edward blushingly uncomfortable. He probably could see it in my eyes, because he quickly turned away and muttered, "Don't you have a jacket or something?"

_No, but you do!_

"In the car!" I barked and started to walk again.

"Bella, wait!" I turned to find Edward taking off his jacket. He covered the distance between us in two steps and draped it over my shoulders.

"Here," he said, "I don't want you to get sick."

_Oh, now you care!_

But I was already disarmed to the point I was ready to thank him for his gentlemanly behavior.

"Let me get your bag," he offered and I swallowed the snarky remark I was about to make about being treated like a child. I knew he wasn't trying to, at least not this time.

I parted with the bag I still held at my chest and quickly folded the sides of the jacket around myself. Though I was drowning in it, I wanted it to morph into my skin. The strong familiar musky smell of Edward, amplified by rain, surrounded me. I pushed up the too long sleeves, and suppressed the desire to bring one up and take a deep breath of the leather. I was going to do it eventually, but not while he was watching me.

"Thank you," I mumbled and was rewarded with a warm smile.

Maybe going somewhere dry wasn't such a bad idea, but it would probably look stupid if I admitted it now.

I looked at Edward, who strode next to me, not paying attention to the rain drenching his clothes. His blue denim shirt was in such a bad shape, hanging shapelessly off his shoulders, it probably wouldn't be recoverable after this evening. He was staring intently straight ahead in complete silence, and I was unsure if I should say something. He was the one who wanted to talk, after all.

We were approaching the stores again, when Edward had slowed down his pace considerably, I did too. He cleared his throat. "Bella, it's pouring."

Did he have to explain the obvious to me? "I noticed."

"How far is your car?"

"It's a truck," I clarified. I didn't know why I did it. Maybe because not a lot of school-girls drove around '53 Chevy trucks on a manual transmission. I was certainly, though not by choice, not a Ford Focus chick.

Edward gave me a small smile and nodded. "Yes, of course... How far is your _truck_?"

I shrugged. "It's a little bit of a walk. I like walking."

Edward smiled again. "I know." He then frowned.

"You're shaking," he said after a pause.

The leather of Edward's jacket had absorbed so much water already, it was heavy and cold. The chill radiated through, making me beyond uncomfortable in my clammy t-shirt underneath.

"Um, yeah, it's..." I squeezed the jacket's sleeve, feeling the moisture seeping through my fingers, and I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that Edward would have to ride back home in it. "It doesn't serve its purpose anymore."

He moved his hand through his hair, pushing it from forehead to the back in quick gesture a few times, trying to remove the excess of the water. His bronze locks sprang under his fingers. Even wet, his hair didn't look like it could be tamed.

"So, the coffee place is right over here." Edward nodded to the small shop with a green canopy, dark from the rain. It was squeezed between the Antique store and Attorney-in-law office.

"Bella, you're going in with me." It wasn't a question, and I wasn't given a chance to object. Edward grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the green canopy house.

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**A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you'll find a moment to review.**


	11. Chapter 10 Purse Strings

**A/N: So far it's been a very wild and overwhelming ride for me, thanks to my readers. **

**The number of alerts I had received in the past several weeks made me all tingly and giddy. You killed it, guyes, thank you!**

**Special thanks to my betas twitchling and mopstyle, who don't give up on me and show exemplary patience with my writing, your support means the world to me. Rags88, baby, thank you for pre-reading, you rock!**

**Disclaimer: SM owns all Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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**Chapter 10**

**Purse Strings**

xxx

_**BPOV**_

I had been at this coffee shop more than a few times before. Jessica introduced me to it. She raved about their pastries, never leaving without a few different kinds in cute little boxes. While I wasn't interested in the sweets, the baristas in this place did make cappuccino to die for. The smooth taste of espresso and just the right thickness of foam made me a fan.

As I was pulled inside by Edward, the overwhelming smell of cupcakes, buttery croissants and the fresh brew of coffee, made me dizzy. I remembered that I'd had nothing to eat since the morning. It was a surprise I didn't pass out from the exhaustion caused by the roller-coaster of emotions I experienced today, and the day wasn't over yet.

Regardless of how far away my thoughts were, I was still very aware of Edward—he held my hand very firmly in his. Warmth radiated from his fingers and I wondered how he wasn't cold from the rain. All I wanted at that moment was a warm blanket and a hot drink. And—yeah—Edward next to me, holding my hand.

I was pulled to the farthest corner of the room, to the only spot available. I guessed that the rain was good for business—the place was packed.

"Is this okay?" Edward asked as if there was any other choice for us. It wasn't really a table to sit at, but rather a corner seat with cushions, covered with pages of newspaper, and a coffee table. I nodded and pushed the paper to one side to clear the space for us.

"Well, uh, okay. Are you hungry?" Edward asked again. "What would you like?"

"It doesn't matter." I shrugged, though it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to eat something proper. I felt awkward about Edward buying me food. Buying me anything, really. I had my own money to pay for myself, but something was telling me that now was not a good time to argue. We sure had enough of that today already.

"Whatever you like, Edward. Some hot tea would be nice," I added. At least tea wasn't as expensive.

"I will be right back, Bella. Don't move," he warned me sternly.

I agreed quietly and sat down.

Edward retreated to the counter and stood in line, not taking his eyes off of me. I couldn't look away either. We both waited, Edward in line, me on the couch, and I could almost see the air between us vibrating, charged with anticipation. He was too far away. I wanted him to come back to me. I liked the tingling feeling pulling at my skin when he touched me, and I wanted him to do it again soon.

"Sir. Sir!" The girl behind the counter was calling Edward. He snapped his head to look in her direction.

"Welcome back." She smiled at him brightly. "More coffee for you today?" She acted like she new him well.

Edward brought his hand up and I expected him to shove it into his hair, but instead, after glancing at me, he pinched the bridge of his nose. I smiled, that one was new. I watched Edward giving the girl the order; he spoke in a low voice, pointing at the display. The girl kept grinning at him idiotically while nodding furiously and moving behind the counter like a puppet, following the direction of Edward's finger and barely looking at what she was picking up. She also glowed like a Christmas tree. I didn't like how she looked at Edward, but I had no right to be jealous, so I just closed my eyes and leaned my back against the couch cushions.

The range of emotions I had felt in the past couple of hours was astonishing. Physically, I was completely drained. There was still an uneasy feeling in my stomach that radiated into my limbs, and the lingering queasiness and light-headedness were causing a slight buzzing in my head. I felt the water dripping down my back from the pony tail tucked under the jacket. The leather, drenched from the rain, was stiff and I was extremely uncomfortable, wishing I could take it off. The shivering never went away, and even the warm temperature of the room wasn't helping my body to relax. Physically, I was a mess.

But emotionally, I was in a completely different state. The feelings of disappointment, sheer misery and then anger I went through in a short period of time left me shaken, yes, but I didn't feel broken anymore. It was almost disconcerting how quickly I moved from the blackest despair to the brightest hope.

I heard a quiet exhale and a clatter of the dishes touching the surface of the table. I opened my eyes to meet Edward's. They were smiling, he was smiling, making me stretch my lips in a wide grin as well. I sat up, extending my legs while appraising the amount of baked goods in front of me. Edward brought two big plates filled with cupcakes, scones and croissants. There was entirely too much food.

"Are you planning to feed an army?" I asked, cringing internally at my lame joke.

"You look like you could eat," he responded seriously and pushed one of the plates closer to me. "The drinks are coming in a minute."

He kept standing in an uncomfortable pose, half-bent and hovering, holding the edge of the table, and studying my face as if he was trying to memorize every line. It made me feel self-conscious, and I chuckled awkwardly under his stare. "You could sit down, you know."

"Right." Edward finally looked away, straightening up, and walked over to the couch where he proceeded to take his soaked denim shirt off.

Okay.

I was not prepared for that.

Technically, he was dressed underneath—the grey plain t-shirt was covering his torso—but, just like in my case earlier, _covering_ would hardly qualify as a correct description.

I had seen boys at the gym during PE practices. Looking at sweaty bodies was nothing unusual for me. Yet, at this moment, I felt as if I was being at an exposition admiring Adonis in a wet shirt. My eyes were glued to the hard muscles of his shoulders flexing under the fabric as Edward rolled the drenched shirt and dropped it on the floor with a sound of slosh. I moved my gaze down to study the lines of his chest and when I was ready to become familiar with what I was sure was a six-pack representing his stomach, Edward cleared his throat calling for my attention.

The familiar, treacherous flame heated the skin of my cheeks, making it impossible for me to bring my eyes to face Edward. He sat down several feet away from me, on the other end of the couch. I tried not to feel disappointed by our distance.

"Bella," he called softly. "You are not eating."

_Allow me to disagree. I was feasting and you interrupted! _

Argh, when did I become so corny? This was getting out of hand.

I grabbed one pastry off the plate without checking what I'd picked and bit off a large piece.

"Mmhmm," I moaned, realizing how hungry I was. "Thish ish gooood." I pointed at my full mouth and even tried to smile.

The scone crumbs fell out as I talked; I moved my hand up to catch them, not succeeding, and as I watched pieces of pastry falling on Edward's jacket I gasped, inhaling in the wrong pipe and then started coughing, spitting even more of it out. Edward chuckled in a deep throaty voice, and reached out to pat me on the back. I really didn't need any more infusing contact of the wet clothes with my skin, so I held my hand up, stopping him and still coughing. He froze with his arm still at my shoulder, ready to come to my rescue if needed, but I was already getting better.

Holding my hand at my lips in attempt to avoid any more embarrassment, I kept chewing, and waving in front of my face, as if it would help me to finish sooner. I swallowed quickly. To have some tea at this point would be nice. I remembered how often I would break out in hiccups if I ate dry food without drinking. Okay, no, that wasn't happening—I quickly returned the once bitten scone back on the plate.

"What's the matter, Bella, you barely touched it." Edward looked at me with a concern. "You didn't like it? There are more."

"No, no, it's good," I assured him. "The best scone ever!" I tried to clear my throat again, still recovering from my coughing fit.

The skeptical look on Edward's face told me he didn't believe me. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm fine, really, just needing something to drink."

"Shit. Of course!" Edward jumped on his feet. "I'm such an ass… Hold on!"

He stalked back to the counter asking about our drinks. The girl pointed to two cups waiting on the side of the counter. Apparently, they were ready for us all this time. It didn't stop Edward from looking all pissed off when he brought them up.

"Would you like some sweetener? Sugar? Milk?" he asked and I could care less about any of them.

"Do they have apricot filled with honey?" I joked in what looked like an unfortunate attempt. Edward wasn't getting it. He cocked his head, looking at me confused, and I sighed. "Notting Hill, Edward, the movie. Hugh Grant. Julia Roberts…. Ugh, never mind." I gave up, realizing that there was no chance Edward ever saw that movie. He sure wasn't Jessica. I snorted.

Edward shook his head, clearly lost.

"Seriously, don't worry. An internal joke gone bad, you are not obligated to know that movie by heart, or at all." It required acknowledging that I did. "Notting Hill" was one of the many movies Jessica had me watch with her, and I admittedly grew to like it. Apparently, my knowledge was lost on the person sitting next to me. We could talk football, I guess. The nights spent with Charlie in front of the TV could be beneficial in this case, but I truly hoped that I wouldn't be reduced to talking sports tonight. That was the last thing on my mind.

What was on my mind, actually, was something entirely different. I still hoped we would talk. Edward's erratic behavior required some explanation, and he promised!

"Bella, your tea," Edward reminded me, and slowly brought the cup up to me. With shaky hands I took it from him, touching his fingers, feeling that addictive electrifying energy flowing into me. My breath hitched.

"Are you still cold?" he asked, worry written all over his face.

"A little bit, not sure why," I responded quietly. "It wasn't even that cold outside, right? You seem fine." I smiled. He was so fine.

"I think I'm just tired. I was in a bit of a shock. And yeah, the rain didn't help. It's been a long day." I sighed, realizing that I didn't want this day to end.

I also wanted to get rid of this heavy jacket, there was nothing pleasant in wearing something so wet you could feel your skin wrinkling under. I wiggled in my seat and tried to fix the jacket on my shoulders so the collar stopped painfully rubbing against my neck.

"Bella, girl, can you please wait for me here for a few minutes?" Edward asked, suddenly getting up on his feet. "I will be right back. Please don't leave."

"Oh-oh-kay," I stammered. "Where are you going?"

"Just wait for a few minutes here. Please, don't go anywhere, okay, Bella?"

I nodded in shock, watching as Edward turned on his heels and ran out of the coffee shop into the rain. I had no idea what was happening. He left like he was being chased by a pack of rabid dogs. I got up and craned my neck, stretching on my toes, trying to spot him outside, but could see nothing.

What did I say? What did I do? Did he just dump me here?

There we went again. Edward was gone and I was left reeling and completely lost. I groaned and flopped back on the couch.

I will give him five minutes. Five! I grabbed the scone from the plate again. Holding the cup tightly in my other hand, blowing on the tea, I stuffed myself with pastry, because eating something was the right thing to do and because I had to busy myself.

There must be an explanation to why Edward left.

Edward and his explanations...

I laughed out loud at that thought, not caring if I was noticed. Because why would anyone give a crap if some little girl in man's jacket too big on her shoulders sat alone and laughed her head off? People witnessed that every day, right?

A minute later I was ready to cry again. I could feel the tears stuck in my throat in a lump and I tried to swallow it along with a piece of scone. At least the tea was somewhat helping. I felt the hot liquid traveling down, making my blood run faster.

Finally, I decided to take off the damn jacket. It was ridiculous to sit in wet clothes that weighed a ton and provided no comfort value what so ever. Well, except one—bringing the sleeve up to my nose, I inhaled the heady smell of the leather and Edward. I wanted to do that from the moment he wrapped the jacket around me. My eyes fluttered closed when I remembered the soft look in his as I thanked him for protecting me from the rain. Now Edward had disappeared again, and I had no idea what to do.

I felt exposed after shifting the jacket off my shoulders. I _was_ exposed—in my wet white shirt—and with my hair all damp and messy I was positive that I didn't look exactly attractive.

Giving up on food and the tea, I brought my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them.

Two minutes.

In two minutes I would get up and leave. I wouldn't care where the hell Edward went, and I wouldn't owe him an explanation either.

I was ready to go, with my hands holding the backpack at my chest, when I saw Edward entering the coffee shop, visibly out of breath.

He trained his eyes to the corner where I stood glaring at him, a smile lit up his face when he spotted me. He moved straight to me, without looking where he was going, accidently kicking some guy's chair on the way and receiving a deserving hiss and a stare. Just then I noticed that he held a bag and half-folded umbrella in his hand.

Did he leave me here to go shopping?

"I'm sorry, it took longer than I expected," Edward said placing the bag on the table next to his cup. His tea was probably already cold.

When he assessed my pose his face crumbled. "Bella, please tell me you weren't leaving. You promised me."

"I promised?" My voice raised causing a few heads turn in our direction. I lowered it to a hiss, "I didn't want to be here in the first place, remember?"

He whipped his head back as if I just slapped him, I could tell my words hurt him.

"Um, yeah, I remember. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, my fault." He shifted from one foot to another. "Well... Anyway... Here, this is for you."

Edward lifted the bag from the table, shook the umbrella from the excess of the water and offered both of them to me.

"What is this?" I asked. I certainly did not expect to be offered any gifts. I didn't know it was possible to feel angry and awkward at the same time, but there I was.

"Some dry clothes, rain boots and well, obviously, an umbrella," Edward listed in nonchalant tone. "I didn't want you to drive back home wet."

Now I felt stupid, cruel, and apparently I was even more insensitive than ten Jessicas combined. There was no excuse for my behavior. My torturous waiting was immediately forgotten and all my anger dissipated, the awkward shifted into an enormous guilt.

I deftly accepted the bag, not even looking inside.

Biting my lip, I desperately tried to think of a way to apologize, but had a hard time coming up with the words.

"Edward, I—"

"Bella, don't... I know. I keep messing up. Can I have a 'do-over'?" he offered a shy smile.

"You mean like 'Hello, my name is Edward, and I'm...'." I paused. "Who are you, Edward?" I asked, realizing that this was it, this was my chance to find out more from him.

I waited and watched as he pulled his brows together, his hand rubbed the back of his neck. He was tilting back and forth from the tip of his toes to the ball of his heels, looking almost depressed.

"It was supposed to be a fun question." I forced a laugh, surprised by the tortured look on Edward's face. "Besides, wasn't it your idea to come here to talk?"

"Fun," he repeated. "Right."

I smiled again, not sure how to react to the painful silence that fell between us.

"Tell you what." Edward finally seemed to snap out of it. "There is a restroom on the other side of the shop. Get changed, please, I'm afraid you'll get sick if you stay in these wet clothes another minute. And when you're back, I'll be here with more hot tea, and we'll get our 'do-over' then. Deal?"

"Wait, what about you? Did you get anything for yourself?" I opened the bag.

"What is it?" I asked finding inside something lavender and plush that looked suspiciously like a robe. Oh no, I could not wear plush. Or lavender. Lavender was even worse than pink in my book.

"What's wrong, Bella?" Edward looked inside the bag. "Obviously, I didn't know your sizes, I just asked for something comfortable in a 'Small'."

"Edward, what store did you go to?" I was panicking a little.

"I grabbed the rain boots and the umbrella at the shoe store, of course. And then went to that little shop next to it. It promised 'warm and cozy' on the window display."

Thanks to Jessica, I knew what 'little shop' Edward was referring to. I was occasionally dragged into it for "just browsing". It was known for the designer clothes and obscene prices.

Sighing, I removed the 'warm and cozy' from the bag, and started unpacking it, dreading what I would find. I surely planned to pay Edward back and it looked like I was facing a big waste of money. One glance at it proved that I was right. With a groan I showed the back of what appeared to be velour pants to Edward. It had "Juicy" printed across in large, golden, fancy letters.

He raised his brow, looking at me, his lips curved in a smirk.

"Don't even, Edward. I mean it. Don't tell me you had no idea what you were buying." I wanted to sound at least irritated, but it didn't work. Velour lavender pants with the words "Juicy" on my ass would be hilarious sight to behold, even I would admit that.

"What? Are you saying that 'Silicon substitution' is so much better?" Edward chuckled pointing to my chest. "At least the pants and the hoodie are warm. And cozy." He teasingly arched his brow.

"Oh, yeah? You don't see the value in my declaration?" I asked, pushing my chest out a little; thankfully the t-shirt was already dry enough to spare me additional embarrassment. "I wonder what it says on the hoodie then." I reached to get it out of the bag.

Edward grabbed my hand, "Before you check it, and something tells me there will be another powerful message for us to read, let's agree that I like yours a lot more."

"So, you're not sexist after all?"

"Sexist? I'd like to believe I'm far from it. But before I get myself into more trouble with you, Bella, please go change."

"You didn't answer my earlier question, though. Did you get anything for yourself?" I dug into a bag, finding nothing but a box with the boots and a pair of socks. Edward even thought of socks for me. "I don't see any purchases for you here. That's not fair!"

"They didn't have my favorite color in Juicy, I'm sorry." Edward laughed. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Go, little girl, change!"

"If I prove to you that I am capable of changing on my own without adult supervision, would you stop calling me a 'little girl'?" I asked. This time the irritation was clear in my voice.

"You have no idea how much I would like to supervise your changing, Bella." Edward was suddenly serious, boring his eyes into me, he looked me over with such an intense, longing gaze, I felt another shiver rippling through my body. "But let's not push it tonight, please."

_Tonight_, he said _tonight_. Did it mean he planned to see me again?

I bit my lip trying to hide a happy smile.

"Okay, sir, I'll be right back."

I started to walk; my Converse shoes were making a quacking sound with each step. Owning rain boots might turn out to be not such a bad idea. I looked back at Edward finding him watching me. Before my blushing could embarrass me again, I turned away and rushed to the restroom to change.

The mirror in the restroom wasn't big enough to allow me to see myself in full length. I moved closer, finding the smudges of mascara under my eyes that made me look like Bride of Chucky on a good day. I groaned and just washed my face clean, there was nothing that could be done to fix it. I changed into the new clothes, tearing off the tags and noting the prices. Man, did Edward and I have to talk about that!

I remembered my first conversation with Charlie about my allowance and how proud he was of me for wanting to be independent. Holding my first job and making my own money helped me to get a taste of it. I could afford buying my own things, and when I couldn't, I was learning to walk away without feeling deprived. I could feel good about myself without someone offering me expensive gifts. It was important to me that Edward couldn't take that feeling away from me.

Once in the new outfit, I leaned over the sink and looked down, trying to gauge the full view. All I saw was lots of pale purple hugging my legs, and the edge of the green boots. I turned around, smoothing the fabric around my butt. It didn't look half as ridiculous as I thought it would, it also didn't hurt that both the tracksuit and the rubber boots fit me. But the print on the pants still bothered me, so I pulled the hoodie down in a fickle attempt to cover my behind. _There, better_. Even though I would never buy something like that myself, I had to admit it—Edward deserved praise for at least trying to keep me warm. I fluffed my hair a little under the hand dryer, packed my wet clothes back in the bag and finally retreated from the restroom.

Edward was sitting on the cushions with a cup in his hands, half turned in my direction. He appraised my outfit, grinning into his tea. I tried to intimidate him with my stare, daring him to say something.

"I prefer 'no comment'," I still warned him as I walked closer. "And you are aware that I am paying you back for my outfit, right?"

"I wasn't, but something tells me that I will witness another 'fiesty Bella' fit if I fight you on this." He smiled, teasing.

"Smart ass," I muttered.

"I heard that," he responded.

"I meant you to," I answered back.

We were back into the familiar territory of bantering, it seemed. It didn't feel wrong, just very tiring.

I sighed and sat down, scooting all the way to the back, bringing the cup with me. Edward kept his promise of more hot tea. This one was steamy, the cup was burning my fingers, but I didn't mind, the dry clothes and the company made me feel strangely serene.

We sat quietly for a little while, and for some weird reason the silence between us wasn't uncomfortable. I took a moment to study the chiseled, almost perfect lines of Edward's profile while he was chewing on a croissant and sipping from his cup. His bronze disarrayed locks looked soft and begged to be touched. He probably felt my staring, because he stopped eating and turned to me with a question in his eyes.

"Your hair is shorter," I noted, since it was obvious what I was thinking about when he caught me.

Edward raised his eyes up, wrinkling his forehead, as if he tried to check his hair in a front. "Oh yeah, Alice cut it."

Alice? Who was she? _What if it's his girlfriend?_

The question probably was written all over my face, because Edward put the croissant down, brought a napkin to his mouth and mumbled in barely audible, "Alice is my sister."

"Oh. You have siblings." My heart restarted again.

"Yeah, two." It seemed to me that Edward parted with information rather reluctantly.

"You're lucky." I sighed. "I'm the only child of divorced parents."

I paused in the invitation for Edward to share more information. I wanted to know everything: his age, where he lived, what he did for a living, was he single?

Yes, especially the last one. Having a zero experience in dating, I couldn't tell, although it seemed to me that he acted like a single guy. At the same time, the mixed signals he'd been sending since I met him could mean that he just enjoyed playing games. I'd liked to believe the former.

"We have no parents. They are both gone," Edward finally spoke up.

I gasped. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't, how would you?" he replied. "It's been a long time, Bella, no worries."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, moving closer.

He glanced at me from his cup. "Not really, it's not something I discuss a lot. With anyone."

"I understand." I let it go. So far, aside from his unexpected speech at the bookshop, Edward avoided talking about anything remotely personal. It was frustrating to feel such a strong magnetic pull toward a person while knowing absolutely nothing about him.

"So, what were you doing at the book store?" This question had been eating me, and I decided to force the issue, suddenly feeling brave. For some reason, it seemed that learning the answer would define what laid next for two of us.

Edward placed the cup on a table and turned to me. "I came hoping to see you."

_Simple.  
_  
I choked a little, swallowing the hot tea down. My poor mouth was probably permanently damaged by heat at this point.

"Why did you leave then?" That was another piece of the puzzle I was hoping to collect.

"Because I knew you wouldn't want me."

"I don't understand."

"Just... I'm not good for you, Bella. You must know it."

"Let me be the judge, Edward." I grimaced. "I am capable of making my own decisions, contrary to what you seem to believe."

Surprisingly, he didn't argue and I treated it as an open invitation to keep talking. "So, you won't tell me why you left. Fine. What changed? We are obviously here. Why did you come back?"

"I told you..."

"Please, the helmet explanation won't fly this time."

"That's the best I've got."

"Okay, fair enough. I mean... I honestly find nothing fair in this situation, and what's worse is that, you seem to enjoy this pointless banter."

"Not in the slightest."

"Then why am I feeling as confused as ever? And what happened to 'let's have a do-over'?"

"Alright. I am going to try." He blew a loud breath, pinched the bridge of his nose and looked straight ahead, meanwhile saying absolutely nothing else. I waited for what seemed like forever, with silence growing thick around us. Once I realized that Edward had no intention to start talking, I sighed and leaned down for my bag.

"Wait!" Edward gestured for me to stop. I looked at him expectantly and without saying a word, keeping my grip on the strap of the backpack, set to go. He scratched his stubble, moving his fingers over the tense muscles on the side of his jaw.

I cleared my throat as reminder that I was still here but it wasn't going to last.

He darted his eyes to me, and his knee went on a bounce, shaking the table, distracting me, when he finally said, "Okay, here it goes."

He cast a pained one-sided smile. "Hello, my name is Edward, and I'm a twenty five year old college drop-out."

I started laughing.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You sounded like you were confessing to a crime, Edward. People drop out of college all the time! Who cares?"

He mumbled something.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, never mind. You missed the part where I was telling you how old I was."

"Well." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to sound indifferent, though I already knew that our age difference seemed to be a big obstacle, at least for Edward. "It depends on how you see it. It's no big deal to me, my mom had always called me an 'old soul'."

"I feel old, Bella. I feel like I've lived at least a hundred years already."

"That can't be good," I agreed. "But you probably have seen a lot."

His expression turned bleak. "Nothing worth bragging about."

"That's too bad. And you don't believe in superheroes." I attempted to brighten up the mood with another joke... again, not succeeding.

"I've stopped believing in a lot of things." Edward stared at his hands. "I'm afraid it might be contagious."

"Don't give up just yet, Edward. Maybe I can help you to change that a little?" I touched his arm, willing him to look at me.

When he did, I was lost in the green of his eyes.

"I was kind of hoping you would, Bella," he said quietly.

"If that means you won't run away each time we talk, I'm in."

Edward smiled crookedly, wistfully, giving me hope that he would consider my offer.

We were finally moving forward, but something else was bugging me. "Edward, I have another question for you. I promise this one is the easiest of them all."

He looked at me, waiting.

"How did you know I like to walk?"

Judging by the expression on his face and by the tight fist around his hair, it wasn't the question he wasn't comfortable talking about. I wondered why and patiently awaited his answer.

"Uh. Your friend… Jessica?" He looked at me questioningly. I nodded, confirming that he remembered her name correctly. "She mentioned it about you back at the store."

"And you remembered?" I was surprised, if not stunned.

"I did, Bella. You're not easy to forget."

I blushed so furiously, my head started to throb. We were getting into a zone where _I _was highly uncomfortable.

"Oh, it looks like it stopped raining." I turned to face the window, also noticing that it was getting dark. Where did the time go? "It's getting late."

I didn't really want to go, and there was some unfinished business we had to take care of—I owed Edward over two hundred dollars. It was highly unlikely that he accepted credit cards. I cringed, thinking about losing my allowance for a month, but my dignity was worth a lot more.

I glanced at Edward. "Before I go, can we please discuss the money I owe you? I appreciate that you cared, but I have to pay you for the clothes."

"I was hoping you'd forget."

"Not when it comes to money," I stated firmly. "I don't toy with that subject."

My words caused an immediate change in his demeanor. He took a quick, sharp breath through his nose and stood up, glaring at me. The topic of money was sensitive for me, but his reaction was even beyond that. Frowning I clasped my hands together and waited; whatever it was, all I could do was to let him explain, although I already knew that I probably shouldn't hold my breath when it came to that.

Edward looked down, his expression dark; he was visibly contemplating a thought. When he finally snapped his head up meeting my gaze, I could tell he had reached some decision.

"If you insist, Bella, you can pay me," he said slowly. "But I have one condition," he added, crossing his arms on his chest.

That did not sound promising. I prepared myself for the worse.

"What's your condition?" My words came out harsher than I meant.

"Look at you, immediately turning into a little porcupine." He gave out a small chuckle. "Nothing indecent, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried. Say it!" I commanded, smiling back unconvincingly. I felt my pulse quicken in anticipation, accelerated by a rush of excitement and fear. What was Edward up to?

"Alright. The money you owe me, I will take it in installments, in small incremental payments," Edward explained wryly, watching my reaction intently.

Were we talking help for the poor student now? I wasn't a charity case, Edward had to know.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I can pay in full. I don't need your help."

Edward's reply was firm. "I knew you'd react that way, but that's my condition."

"I don't get it. Don't you want your money right away? Don't you value what's yours?" I insisted stubbornly, knowing well that I'd be in big trouble if he asked for the entire amount right now. I simply didn't have it.

"You have no idea." Edward answered darkly. "Let me help you to understand, Bella." He leaned close to me and said in a low voice, "It means you'd agree to see me again, and again, and again."

I felt my eyes widen in shock, for a moment I forgot how to breathe.

Edward straightened up, picking up his jacket and the helmet from the couch.

"Ready to go, girl?" He offered me my bags.

"When?" I ignored them.

A big impish grin appeared on his face, and I could tell that he knew I'd ask this question and was looking forward to it.

"When… what, Bella?" He was very obviously enjoying taunting me.

I smiled back, since I couldn't be bothered hiding how much I enjoyed _being_ taunted.

"When is my first payment due?"

"That, my Bella." The words rolled of his tongue so naturally. I blinked realizing that he just called me "his".

"That," he repeated, "I'm going to leave up to you. Knowing that you are so particular about money, and so am I, believe me, I am hoping the first payment will come very soon."

"I have some cash on me." I decided to play a little game. I wanted to see his reaction.

"Nah-ah-ah." Edward waved his long finger at me, his eyes twinkled. "Not possible, the bank is closed for tonight. No payments can be accepted."

"Does your bank have a phone number I should call when I'm ready to schedule my next appointment?" I asked, trying to keep my face straight. We were talking business, after all.

"Oh, but of course it has a number."

"Doesn't the bank need to have my information as well? You know, in case I don't show up on time and would have to be penalized."

"The bank trusts you fully, since you are a special client. But I suggest you don't wait for too long. Spare the bank's feelings, you know."

"The bank has feelings?" I laughed, happy with the revelation.

"This bank sure does. What it doesn't have is a pen."

"No worries. Your special client uses the latest technology, it's good news for the bank, actually." I handed my cell phone to Edward. "Make sure the bank doesn't make any entry errors, though. Double check the digits, please."

Edward quickly typed into my phone. He took my hand and placed the phone in it, squeezing my fingers lightly, sending a warm wave of pleasure down my spine. "Triple-checked. Now the bank's future is in your hands."

I opened the phone to check the entry and scrolled to an "E" hoping to learn Edward's last name. I snorted finding "_Edward, The Bank_" instead.

"The Bank's future," I repeated, looking at smiling Edward. I hid my phone in my new hoodie's pocket. "Hmmm, sounds like a big responsibility." I furrowed my brows, pretending I had to think about it.

His face turned serious in an instant.

"Yes, Bella, you shouldn't be taking it lightly, I have to warn you. If you decide that it's too much or accidently lose the number and never call…" He trailed off.

I nodded. "Thank you, Edward. I will consider your warning... I really have to go now."

He exhaled loudly and moved away from the couch, clearing the path for me. "I'll walk you to your truck."

"It's not too far." I tried to object, in reality thankful for extra few minutes we could spend together.

"I insist," he pressed, opening the door for me.

"Are you going to be alright driving your bike all wet?"

"I'm used to it." He shrugged off my worry. "Part of the deal."

We walked into the chilly Port Angeles evening. I was wearing a lavender plush hoodie and matching pants with a rather tacky print on my butt, but I didn't care. I purposefully made a few quick steps walking ahead of Edward, allowing him to enjoy the view under the street light. I heard his quiet chuckle and this time I didn't blush. Edward made me feel good, he handed me certain power, and I planned to use it, even if in small increments, for as long as it was meant to last.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, dear Bankward, how I love thee. Do you? **

**A few recommendations for today:**

"**Russian Roulette" by LuckyStar815, id on ffnet is 5742659 – an excellent story of two lost people who unexpectedly found comfort in each other, but one can not belong to another. **

"**Accouterments of a Vampire" by BMSequestrian, id on ffent is 5814031 – a story of our favorite Jasper, an elaborated take on his growth as a military leader while a human, and the version of him becoming a vampire. **

"**Breaking Dawn Book 4: Renesmee" by Kimmydonn, id on ffnet is ****5585925 – a story of birth and growing up of Renesemee. This one is a sweet and clever take on the character who is often overlooked in fanfiction.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	12. Chapter 11 The Covenant

**A/N: Thank you to all my readers, to those who put me on alerts and special thank you to those who find a moment to leave me a review. Your support helps me to keep going.**

**Please remember, this story is rated M for a reason, ****it contains mature themes and topics that might be considered sensitive.**

**Thank you to my betas****: twitchling, mop and rags88. You make me want to be better. I love you.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns all Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**The Covenant**

_**BPOV**_

_What was the call-back etiquette? Three days? Twenty four hours? _

_Who the hell came up with those rules? Dear Abby? _

_Dear Abby, you suck!_

Ugh, why was Edward asking me to call him first?

What had given me a great sense of power at first now felt more like a burden. Hours later, I was still replaying the whole afternoon in my mind, scrutinizing every word and move, jumping from one extreme conclusion to another. At one point I wasn't sure I should call him at all.

xxx

The evening with Edward wasn't over by the time we left the coffee shop. When we stepped outside, Edward caught up with me, clearly amused by my blatant flaunting of my backside in the new tracksuit, and gently released me from my bags, making me feel all girly and cared for. It was a great feeling.

We walked the rest of the way to my truck in silence.

Myriad of questions swarmed in my head, each more personal than the last, but I was afraid to sound too invasive or dumb, so I just kept quiet while discretely glancing at Edward through my lashes. When I wasn't looking, I felt his burning gaze on me in return.

Walking next to Edward was challenging and comforting at the same time, I missed his hand gripping mine and that buzzing feeling of electricity against my skin where we joined. I ached for his touch. My silent prayer was answered when I paused in front of a particularly large puddle on the sidewalk, unsure whether I should just walk through it since I couldn't skip over in one stride. Edward, of course, had no problem doing so, and when he realized that I wasn't following him, he stopped, cocking his head at me. I didn't want him to think that I was totally hopeless, so I bunched up my brand new pants and stepped right into the water. I had the rain boots on, didn't I? The defiant expression on my face made him toss his head in a laugh.

"Come here, girl," he said, moving his helmet to the hand with my bags. He wrapped his free arm around my waist and brought me flush to his body. Without thinking, I gripped his still damp shirt. "You're heavier than I thought," he grunted with a chuckle and made a big step over the puddle.

"Put me down then." I pouted. I wasn't _that_ heavy.

Edward didn't listen. He didn't let me go either.

With me lifted in his arm, our eyes were at the same level. His looked almost black, which made the expression on his face appear even more severe. I knew that it wasn't just him whose eyes were hungry—I was reciprocating, not lowering my gaze.

Forget the hand holding. Hand holding would never be enough after learning the feeling of being tightly pressed against Edward's chest. I smelled the mint tea and the sweet perfume of his breath and felt my eyes fluttering. Before I could let them roll back into my head, I took a deep breath and wiggled, trying to ease myself out of his arm. "Put me down, Edward, you're wet," I repeated, making sure he knew it wasn't all that pleasant for me. I was getting quite good at this game.

Edward sighed and allowed me to slide down a little. I was ready for him to let go of me when he pushed his face into my hair, inhaling, and I froze, incapacitated by his warm breath.

"I think it's the rain," he murmured next to my ear, making me shiver, and released me completely. I had to make an effort to keep my balance, feeling completely out of sorts. Edward was looking at me with a strange, wistful expression, making me lose all train of thought.

"Here is your truck," he said, with his eyes still on me. I blinked a few times. Had we reached the destination already? How did Edward know what my truck looked like?

I turned, still spellbound. There it was—a large red spot representing the means of my transportation that stood out in the dark.

I made a few unsteady steps to it, grabbing at the pockets of my new suit for the keys which of course weren't there.

"Edward?" I turned to him, surprised at how close he was. "I need my bag, please." Edward obliged by handing it to me and made a step back.

While I searched for the keys through the backpack, he slowly walked around my truck. He even had the nerve to kick the tires couple of times. Checking the pressure? What the hell?

"The tires are new, Edward, they are absolutely fine," I said, annoyed. For some reason it felt like the truck represented me, and I sure wouldn't want to be poked and prodded in order to make the right impression. It brought the memories of my first day at school when I was assessed and evaluated by total strangers who judged me by how I looked.

As I retrieved the key and jammed it into the lock I silently prayed that it cooperated.

"What? No remote?" Edward teased me.

"None. Biometric technology didn't exist in the fifties, can you imagine?" I quipped. To my immense relief the key turned with minimum resistance.

"We're talking biometrics now?" Edward's face lit up. "I can tell you a thing or two about that," he offered enthusiastically. "But then, you'd want nothing to do with your old friend here." He smiled crookedly and nodded at the open door of the truck.

"Respect, Edward. No need to be insulting a senior citizen. It's safe, and so loud I don't need to worry about unwelcomed parties. People run away just hearing it roar."

"I see." he laughed. "Sounds like a very useful feature to me."

"That's what _I'm_ saying." I had to smile back. "It's no fancy Harley, of course."

"Not just any Harley, Bella—we are talking 1991 Fatboy Softail Harley here." There was deep reverence in Edward's voice.

"I don't speak _Live to Ride Illustrated_." I sighed. "All I know is that I wouldn't mind having one, I think it's magnificent. Sorry, gramps." I patted the side of my truck.

"Oh, I can fix you up," Edward suggested readily, his eyes gleamed in the dark. "Just don't count on me letting you riding it alone," he added quickly as if afraid that I'd claim his friend and never give it back. His offer worked for me perfectly, however. The earlier fantasy of me with Edward on the bike— with my arms and legs wrapped around him, my cheek pressed to his back—flashed through my mind.

"I wouldn't dream of it," I managed a tame response.

Edward nodded.

To bypass any awkward goodbyes, I quickly climbed into the dark cabin of the truck, throwing my backpack on the passenger side.

"All right," I mumbled. _Yep, not awkward at all._

"Here you are, Bella." He pushed the shopping bag with my old clothes to my lap. "Take care."

I had absolutely no desire to leave, but couldn't come up with any excuses to stay. And Edward didn't ask me, even once. Studying the expression on his beautiful face, I tried to store in my memory the longing in his hooded eyes and the lines running around his mouth. The shadows played a trick, making Edward appear tired, dejected. As if he read my thought, the corner of his mouth tugged, trying to form a smile, but it never appeared.

"Thanks again for—" I searched for the right words. For keeping me warm? For making this the most intense and memorable day of my life?

"Don't mention it, it was a pleasure." His voice was tender and so was the look in his eyes.

Once the door of the truck was closed, I poked in the dark, trying to insert the keys in the ignition, and missed every time. I sighed deeply, smoothed my hair away from my face, and bent down to see better where I was aiming.

The knock on the window startled me. Edward motioned for me to lower it. I did by cranking the handle, hating how uncooperatively slow it rolled down.

"Bella." Edward placed his hands on the edge of the open window, slightly leaning to me.

I moved closer. "Yes?" I sounded a little bit too eager.

"Please drive safe," Edward asked after a small pause and reached to my face, tracing his fingers delicately along my temple, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He barely touched me, and yet, I felt the goose bumps running from my neck down my spine and I shivered visibly, struggling to keep it subtle.

Edward quickly moved his hand away.

I just nodded.

His eyes danced on my face. I could tell that he wanted to say something else, but nothing came; he just shook his head and stepped away, knocking on the truck's door twice, signaling me to go.

I gave him a weak smile and revved the engine, rolling my eyes—yes, my truck was obscenely loud, thank you very much—and slowly drove away with the window still all the way down. The misty air fanned my face and neck, providing a much welcomed cooling effect on my skin.

I wanted to take the phone out of my pocket and call Edward as soon as his figure disappeared from my rear view mirror, but I didn't. I was confused and had some serious thinking to do where Edward was concerned.

xxx

The hour I spent in the truck driving home didn't grant any clarity to my thoughts. I had no idea whether I should take my time and make Edward sweat it a little, or if I should call him right away. I hadn't forgotten that there was also the serious matter of money involved. I was so torn that I decided to seek Jessica's counseling on the matter, and that was saying something.

"Hey, Bella, how are you?" Jessica asked me in surprised tone as I rarely called her myself. "Is everything alright?" Her prying voice was loud as usual. I had to move the phone away from my ear, grimacing a little. Why did I think that calling Jess was a good idea again?

Oh, yes, right, I needed _dating_ advice. As if Jessica was an expert.

As if I had anyone else to ask.

"No, everything is alright," I assured her. "Just calling you to catch up."

"Aww," Jessica cooed. "I missed you too, Bella. I haven't seen you outside of school in over a week."

"Yeah, um, about that. I think we are just both busy, you know. With school stuff." I sounded annoyingly dumb, and unnecessarily apologetic. I_ was_ busy, I reminded myself. With school stuff.

Did I just roll my eyes?

"I know, I hate this time of the year! One more week, and we are out of that purgatory for the entire summer! Have you decided what you're gonna do, Bells?" Jessica moved into her usual chirpy mode. I realized that I wasn't just saying it, I did miss her, especially after the long and exhausting day I had had today.

"Not really. I will try to get a more or less steady job during summer, so I make some money and don't die of boredom. A fun job like working at the diner under your mom's supervision, for instance."

Jessica giggled, she was so easily entertained; at least she got my sarcasm this time.

"You should ask Charlie about taking a vacation. To go somewhere sunny and beachy, I know you miss it a lot," she suggested sympathetically, already aware that I wouldn't go to Florida any time soon.

"Yeah right, don't you know that a beach at La Push is as far as Charlie would ever go for getting a tan?"

"Oh, I so would love to get some tan on my legs!" Jessica skipped the topic of my father's sunbathing activities quickly. I couldn't blame her. "Which reminds me—did you hear, they are talking about installing a Mystic tan booth at the 'Sun City' salon?"

"A what booth?" I didn't want to get started on the name of the mentioned salon, so ill-fitting for Forks. Some people sure had a wild imagination.

"Mystic tan. It's like spraying a tan over your body—airbrushing. It's quick and makes a very even tan," Jessica went on to educate me. She had an amazing patience when it came to beautification.

"Why would they call it 'mystic'? Sounds fishy to me, Jessica, what's so mystic about it—the unknown ingredients of a chemical cocktail supposedly mixed with Vitamin D?"

"I don't know. To me it sounds pretty cool." I could almost hear Jessica shrug. "It isn't cheap, I'm told, but I think it would look awesome on me. All the movie stars use it."

"Whatever floats your boat, Jess," I gave up easily, chuckling. I was used to the fact that every conversation I had with Jessica would end up being about celebrities or boys. Thank goodness she hadn't brought up her undying crush on Mike Newton. Yet.

"How come you are not telling me about your Port Angeles trip?" Jessica abruptly reminded me about the agenda of my call—boys. I immediately remembered that I was dealing with a professional gossiper here and braced myself. "Did you go by yourself again? How was it? Did you have fun?"

"I went by myself. It was fine," I answered, tackling one question at the time, keeping my voice even. "And yes, I did have fun." That was an understatement of the year.

"Did you go to that bookstore event? Did you meet any hot guys?" Jessica recited, getting on her 'I live for this shit' horse. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a list in front of her with a written questionnaire. "Tell me _everything_," she demanded.

"Jess, cut it out," I said, instantly irritated. "There is nothing to tell."

I cringed a little and squeezed my eyes, almost expecting Jessica to call me on it. She was excellent at sniffing out the truth.

"Nothing to report?" She sounded disappointed, if not slightly suspicious. "Are you sure?"

"Well, um, not entirely," I finally admitted. I had to man up, since I did call her for a reason.

"Bella," Jessica warned. "What are you not telling me?" There was a hint of alarm in her voice, I didn't understand why.

"Um, I _did_ want to consult with you on something very sensitive." I worded it that way because I wanted Jessica to understand how important what I was going to talk about was to me, since I was well aware of her ability to trivialize anyone's feelings but hers. The silence on the end of the line was deafening. It was very unlike my friend.

"So, there is this guy…" I started slowly, not sure how much I should be sharing about Edward. Something was telling me that I had to be very careful with details, especially when I talked to Jessica.

"What guy?" Her tone became wary, apprehensive. "Do _I_ know him?" she asked quickly again before letting me answer.

"Um," I hesitated again. "Kind of."

Technically, she didn't. Even _I _couldn't say I knew Edward yet.

Jess didn't comment. Surprised again that she wasn't pressing me further, I continued, "So, this guy… He kind of gave me his number and wants me to call him. Maybe."

"Do _you_ want to call him?" She lost all her cheeriness all of a sudden.

"Yeah, I'm just not sure how soon I should do it."

"Does this guy have a name?" She finally began her interrogation. Even though I found it to be mostly annoying, I couldn't deny that her cross-examination technique was also oddly amusing. It was always in good fun. This time, though, Jessica seemed somewhat detached, aloof. Contrary to my expectations, she didn't immediately offer for us to consult with the latest edition of "Seventeen" or produce a long tirade speculating how the hotness of the guy should be affecting the timeline of my call-back.

Again, even sharing Edward's name didn't feel like a good idea. I was afraid she'd make fun of me, tease me about our first super awkward time together at the book store, and I wasn't in a mood for being teased.

I decided to change the direction of our conversation a little in order to avoid answering any questions that could give Jessica food for spilling the beans at the school. I knew that she would, not because she had anything against me, but because she simply couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"I just saw him tonight. Do you think I should call him tomorrow or a day later?" I mused.

"It depends." Jessica went quiet. "Do you like him a lot, Bella?" she asked, suddenly lowering her voice. Jessica never sounded so caring in the time I'd known her. It was weird, but I was moved by it.

"Yes," I answered in earnest, without hesitation.

"How much do you think he likes _you_?" Jessica pressed, perplexing me by her insistent, cold tone.

"I don't know, Jess, he is kind of all over the place. I'm confused," I admitted, knowing that this was the main reason why I didn't call him right away. "I think he likes me."

If I didn't know any better, I'd think that I heard Jessica groan. Was she jealous that I had someone I liked and who had an interest in me before she got her break with Mike Newton? That couldn't be, Jessica was nosy and flaky, but I never heard her wish ill on anyone. Besides, I wasn't just _anyone_, I was her friend, even though we didn't always agree on some things.

I knew that I probably wasn't providing the desired juicy details and that annoyed her, this conversation went nothing like I had expected and I already regretted making this call. It looked like I was on my own here.

"Okay, Jess, I know it's late, I'm sure you're tired." I was dead on my feet; that was for sure. "I will see you tomorrow, alright?"

"I'll be running around tomorrow, Bella." Was she telling me off? That hurt a little, but what could I expect, I wasn't exactly forthcoming with my friend either.

"No, I get it. I'll see you later then. Have a good night."

Jessica mumbled something and hung up, leaving me puzzled.

xxx

I couldn't sleep that night, and spent the first part of it sitting on the edge of the open window, wrapped in a blanket and trying to get into "The World in My Pocket" by JH Chase. A couple of hours later, I gave up on the book and just sat there, staring into the dark, listening to the subtle sounds of the night.

My mind wouldn't turn off though. I kept thinking about my previous day, about Edward and my life full of unrealized dreams and expectations. Those relentless thoughts combined with the anxiety eating at me and the cold breeze from outside kept me awake until the skies on the east side of the town started to swell in pink as sun began rising over the horizon. I was dead tired, my eyes and limbs felt heavy from exhaustion; at some point I caught myself leaning dangerously over the frame of the window. I groaned and got up, stretching and moving to the bed where I rolled into a ball and succumbed to a restless sleep.

A burst of sun shining unceremoniously through the open window woke me up with a jolt. I barely got any sleep but couldn't suppress the smile that crept across my face. Pouring into my room, such a rare visitor was more than welcome, especially since the house was peacefully quiet. Charlie had, no doubt, already left for work. Yawning, I padded to the window and peered outside, finding the backyard alight under the golden blanket of the morning. Shadows and sun created differing shades of green all over and it immediately reminded me of Edward.

I gasped_. Edward…_

What happened the day before wasn't a dream, and though I spent almost all night pondering over the previous day's events, I still hadn't decided much about my call to him.

Having only a few hours of rest affected my state. I was mentally checked out and barely paid any attention during classes at school. Strangely, I had only seen Jessica once, who waved from afar hardly acknowledging me, and hurried away. I shrugged and made a note to self to call her later to talk. It was one thing to have a cool-down period, we had gone through those before, and another to start ignoring me completely—or worse—making me feel guilty over something I hadn't done.

The following four hour shift at the pet shop wasn't any better. For the most part I spent it walking around like zombie or doodling in my notepad. Writing didn't have the usual calming, satisfying effect on me either. All I could think about was Edward—his face in my hair, his fingers on my skin, his voice in my ear, "It's the rain."

The images kept flying before my eyes every time I thought of him, which was non-stop: Edward, sitting next to me by the bookshelf, quiet and content; Edward, glaring at me and calling me a stranger; Edward, pushing his hand into his hair and reminiscing about composing music as a kid; Edward on his bike, frowning, ordering me to hop on with him; Edward at the coffee shop, looking at me, his face lit up, then confused, then in anguish.

"I want to see you again and again"– his words possessed me, disabling my ability to move or think. Even now, every time I remembered him saying these words as his green eyes were smoldering into me, the salacious feeling surged through my body, doubling my heartbeat, sending hot waves through my body, making me ache.

There was no doubt in my mind that he didn't plan any of it, he was as lost as I was. He couldn't plan the pouring rain, me not having a jacket or an umbrella, and of course buying the dry clothes in that store for me was a complete improvisation on his part, as well as his idea of how I'd pay him back. Clever idea, I might add, considering how he left the choice up to me.

There was a part of Edward—the one he made sure I understood very clearly—that firmly believed that he wasn't good enough for me. He made it sound like he was something not worthy, something… sinister.

I didn't believe him.

Sure, there was Edward who said mean things to me, who left me at the store when I was practically pouring out my soul in front of strangers, for him. But didn't he say he did it because he was convinced I wouldn't want him?

And there was another part of Edward who carefully avoided talking about his family, who looked like he was in pain when I attempted to find out anything personal about him. Edward practically warned me to think twice before I called him. What guy trying to score a date did that? What happened to this beautiful, intelligent man that made him think he didn't deserve the interest of a teenage girl? Well, there was also _that _factor, how could I forget.

I grimaced, thinking about it. I was turning eighteen in a few months, but our age difference could never be helped, only accepted. Or not.

But I wasn't blind and I could certainly feel—feel the air between us charged and heavy, feel it crackling every time Edward touched me. At times, all he needed to do was stand close to me to make it seem as if the world was spinning and I was spiraling down with it. I might have had no experience, but I could see that he felt it too. It was difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that I, Bella Swan, was the object of this affection, but I wasn't foolish enough to walk away from the something special that was happening between us. Because when I thought of Edward, of his voice, his hypnotic eyes, the magnetic pull between us when we were together, I wanted nothing more than to be with him.

No matter what Edward told me in warning or how much I might be hurt in the end, I was willing to take a risk. In my heart I knew that if I didn't I would regret it forever, and because... well... wasn't that exactly what I wanted when I moved to Forks—to meet new people and have new experiences? Didn't I hate the lonely, treading water Bella?

There was my answer. All I had to do was pick up the phone and dial Edward's number.

xxx

Glancing at the clock, I realized that it was already well past nine o'clock in the evening. Somehow I managed to not call Edward for twenty five hours, even though every minute of every hour was filled with thoughts of him.

His number had been highlighted in my phone since we'd parted in Port Angeles. I just pressed "talk" and listened to a single ring before I heard a short intake of breath on the other end of the line, followed by complete silence.

"Hello?" I asked tentatively, breathlessly, and looked at the screen, thinking that the call had been dropped.

"Bella…" Edward's voice was quiet, but jubilant. The familiar husky sound of it made my eyes close and breath hitch. "You called." He exhaled softly.

With those words, all my doubts and juvenile reflections instantly evaporated. A wave of relief crashed over me and I could breathe again.

"I did." I smiled. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"God no!" I heard a rustle in the background as if he was moving around and then his content sigh. "I'm here... You called," Edward repeated. Did he really think I wouldn't? Had I really doubted it myself?

"I had a very long, exhausting day," I responded, apology in voice, since he had obviously been waiting for my call, and feeling bad for not calling him sooner. "How about you? How did your day go?"

The question was so generic that I hated myself for not being able to come up with something more personal, interesting.

A few seconds passed before Edward answered, "Nothing worth mentioning."

"_That_ boring?"

"No_, that_ inconsequential to you."

I sighed, feeling a slight pang of resentment because I couldn't understand why wouldn't Edward just share simple information with me? "Well, if you put it that way..."

Before I could finish my sentence he interjected, "I had a long day too, Bella... I had to go to Olympia today."

Olympia? I had to rack my brain before it clicked. "Olympia, as in the capital city of our state?"

"Right."

"I've never been in Olympia, maybe I should make a trip."

_Make a trip to the bat__hroom, Bella, to barf. God, I'm so mind-numbingly boring! _

"Uh, nothing interesting there, believe me," Edward assured me; he clearly shared my sentiment about the excitement of this conversation.

I sighed and he added, "I always wondered why they chose such small, insignificant cities on the map to make as the capitals of the states. Olympia for Washington, Sacramento for California, Carson City for Nevada."

So, we had been reduced to a small talk. It felt like we were tiptoeing around each other, with Edward carefully avoiding talking about anything of a meaning and me not being capable of coming up with any substantial thought in general. Actually, for me it was worse than that. As Edward talked, I listened to his low, husky voice—so familiar already and yet so new over the phone—and like an enchanted fool all I thought was that I wanted to see him.

"Bella?" Edward called out. "Are you there?"

"Yes," I rasped and cleared my voice. "So, Olympia—" I said quickly, bringing up that stupid city again. Something was seriously wrong with me. "What took you there?"

Thank god, I was over the random geographical fun facts. My next challenge? To avoid talking about the weather, because that would be a total conversation killer. _  
_

"Business," came another hesitant response from Edward.

I had the choice to leave it alone or to keep pressing. I went for the latter, because I already cared too much and because I preferred not to be in the dark. That, and because I was dead set on not bringing up the weather.

"Really? What's your business, Edward?" I asked.

"Um..." Another answer of a meaningful substance to store in my memory.

Pulling teeth.

That was how it felt—like I was pulling teeth—and I certainly did not enjoy the process.

"Edward?" I sighed. My palm with the phone was clammy from my sweat and my back started to hurt from the hunching while I was sitting stiffly on my bed. I straightened up and placed the phone in my other hand. "It's okay if you don't want to talk."

He didn't respond.

"Edward?"

He blew a breath, swishing sound assaulted my ear. "Bella, I thought I had made it clear yesterday." His tone was surprisingly curt. "I warned you."

I remembered the warning well and had plenty of time to think. I already made up my mind about it, but seeing how our conversation was turning, it became painfully clear that Edward had time to make up his mind about me as well.

"I heard your warning," I replied in resignation. My shoulders slumped, and I wished I didn't have to say what came out of my mouth next. I prepared to lie through my teeth since I didn't have any other choice. "So, yeah. Um… thank you, for reminding me of the reason for my call." I _was_ under self-induced obligation, after all.

"Why _did_ you call?" His deep voice was rough.

"I called to make arrangements to pay you back."

"I don't need your money."

I started to coil inside. "And I don't need your gifts! We've got a problem, haven't we?"

"Yes, we've got a problem," Edward uttered. I heard hollow hasty steps—he was walking. Or pacing. "The problem is you are driving me insane."

"Well, the feeling is mutual," I responded hotly. That wasn't a lie, but unfortunately, Edward and I saw the nature of our insanity differently. "So, let's try to resolve it with minimal pain for both of us."

Edward said nothing.

"Just tell me when and where," I said, "I'll pay you what I owe at once and you will never hear or see me again."

I hated that prospect. After already growing fond of the idea that Edward might like me and, god, I definitely liked him, the thought of not ever seeing him and not getting to know him better felt as if my sweetest dream was being shuttered. Trying to keep the tears at bay, I rubbed my eyes with the hand free of the cell phone. I felt ridiculously childish for allowing myself to think that I even had a chance with him. I should probably blame my over-reactive imagination for seeing things that weren't there in the first place.

"No." Edward's reply was surprisingly indignant. "I'm keeping my condition, and you're keeping your word."

"No? Why? Explain!" Exasperated, yet greatly relieved that Edward didn't accept my proposition, I demanded in a hushed voice. I was afraid to wake up Charlie.

"Because. I already told you." Edward responded, tiredly. I tensed, expecting him to say something mean again. "I can't come up with any other reason for you to want to see me."

_Oh... _

Edward had the ability to make me feel like a complete delinquent in life on a regular basis without even realizing it. Regardless of how confused I was about my own feelings, I had no right to push him so hard every time, yet I kept doing it, with little consideration. I needed to grow up.

"Edward." My voice was small, guilty. "There are plenty of other reasons for me to want to see you."

"Then tell me that the money is not why you called."

"That's not why I called," I said quickly. "I would have called regardless," I confessed and added almost inaudibly, "I wish you just asked me."

"Jesus, Bella, you have no idea what you do me," Edward groaned, and my heart soared. How did he do that—with one word turning my world back upside again?

"I feel like a fucking seventeen year old all over again," he complained and chuckled nervously. "No offense."

I pictured Edward sitting in the dark, with one hand pressing the phone to his ear and another shoved into his hair.

"Edward," I said softly, "please stop tugging on your hair, you're hurting yourself."

He let out a shaky breath. "You can't see me right now." _Was he asking?_

"No, of course not."

What a silly thought, though wouldn't it be wonderful for Edward to show up at my door right at this moment?

"I don't have a crystal ball." _Sadly._ "But," I continued, "I don't need it to know where your hand is at this moment."

_Oh dear god, that didn't come out right. _

Closing my eyes, I chastised myself for thoughtless prattling. My verbal diarrhea was so embarrassing, I contemplated hanging up. To my surprise, Edward snickered, which finally broke the thick tension between us.

"Let me guess," he said, sounding a lot lighter. "You're biting your lip right now."

"Oh, god," I groaned, half joking. "We can't be helped, can we?"

"I wouldn't even try when it comes to you, Bella," Edward responded tenderly.

I got up, sighing quietly, grabbed a blanket, and moved to my spot by the window. Holding the phone at my shoulder I opened the window wide and was met by fresh cold air. It would have been nice to get out for a walk. It would have been so much nicer if Edward could go with me.

I heard a distant sound similar to an approaching car and peered outside, but with my bedroom was facing the backyard I could see nothing. A moment later I realized that the sound was coming from the other end of the phone line. I frowned in confusion.

"Edward, where are you?"

Edward's, "shit, hold on" confirmed that I might not get an answer to that question either.

I heard some muffled noises that I couldn't decipher and was about to start worrying that something was wrong with Edward where ever he was at this time.

"Bella, girl, can I please call you back a little later tonight? I'll use this number?"

I wanted him to, but... "Edward, it's getting kind of late, I am afraid to wake my dad…"

"Oh, sure. I understand." I hated the defeat in the tone of his voice.

Afraid of my father or not, I couldn't just end this conversation and let Edward think that I didn't want to talk to him, because it was far from the truth—I just needed to become a little resourceful.

"You know, you can text me," I offered and froze, waiting for his reaction. What if he hated the idea or didn't use texting?

To my great relief Edward agreed, and I could hear him smiling when he said, "So, I'll text then. Keep your phone close by, my Bella."

"I will," I assured him, smiling too, and leaned back, pressing my back to the frame of the window.

"Gotta go. I won't be long." Soft and caressing, his voice washed over me.

I didn't get to say goodbye. The call ended, and it was my turn to wait.

xxx

What made Edward suddenly stop our conversation? Was he somewhere on the road? Why did he keep running off? As usual, I had zero answers and was ready to hit something. I moved away from the window, threw the blanket on the bed and started pacing around it. Our house was small and I was afraid to disturb Charlie, so I sat down at the computer desk with the phone on the table right in front of me. I turned on the computer, waiting for it to warm up, tapping my fingers. As soon as it booted, I opened the browser—to keep myself occupied, I decided to answer Renee's emails and maybe do some research on a paper due in a week.

One agonizing hour later, as I was dozing off at the desk, my phone beeped. I quickly brought the screen to my eyes, any trace of tiredness instantly gone.

_**I'm not good at texting**__** –Edward**_

At least he was okay, I didn't care about the rest, and ah, there was something I was definitely good at and wouldn't hesitate to brag about. My mood brightened and I chuckled as I typed:

_**I'll teach you, sir -Bella**_

_**Oh you will, won't you, miss Bella? -Edward**_

I snickered and started typing a smart-ass reply about our more than official tone when the screen lit up with another message.

_**Oh, forgot to ask, do I have to follow all punctuation rules? -Edward**_

I shook my head, mouthing the words as I typed them.

_**Haha! No.**__**And you're fast! -Bella**_

I need to keep up here -Edward

_**You're fine! I try not to use weird abbreviations eithe**__**r -Bella**_

Jessica always made fun of my effort to preserve English language when texting. I was an odd one out even in that aspect.

_**May I ask you a question? **__**–Edward**_

_**Yes? -Bella**_

When can I see you? -Edward

_**When do you want to see me? -Bella**_

_**Now -Edward**__  
_  
My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

_**You can't see me now. It's close to midnight, E. -Bella**_

___**Did you just call me E? -Edward**_

Was I just scorned for being lazy and not typing Edward's name properly? My unintentional attempt to look cool flopped, but if I were honest, I kind of liked his name that way.

_**I did**__**. It's shorter to type. You don't like it... Sorry -Bella **_

_**No, it's fine. It's much better than Eddie or Ed -E**_

No Ed or Eddie, noted. Is Eduardo out of question, too? -Bella

_**Scratch that one too**__**, little minx -E**_

I giggled thinking that texting with Edward turned out to be fun and refreshing. It was much easier to communicate with him over the quick messages and I felt that Edward was more open with me now than over the phone.

_**What? Just trying to make sure**__**:) -Bella**_

I see a smile. Are you? -E

Am I what? -Bella

___  
__**Are you smiling right now, my little Bella?**__**-E **__  
_  
My heart fluttered seeing the words addressed to me. The goofiest smile had been plastered on my face ever since his first text.

_**Are you blushing, B? -E**_

Did you just call me B? And NO, I'm perfectly pale and ashen -B

"Perfect" is the key word -E

___  
_  
Did he just call me perfect? I re-read the message looking for a different meaning. My phone beeped again.

_**Are you blushing again? -E**__  
_  
Yep, he called _me_ perfect.

I was overwhelmed and yes—I touched my cheeks—my face was emanating heat. I was blushing and smiling so big my cheeks hurt, but I would admit none of that to Edward. What I was willing to admit was that I was extremely tired and crashing after having two rather daunting days and very little sleep.

_**It's been a long day for me**_**. **_**I'm going to bed -B**_

_**I want to see you -E**_

Those simple words immediately sent my blood racing. I wanted to say "me too", but something was telling me it was too soon for that confession. There was still a lot to process, the texting Edward was so much different from any other Edward I had already experienced—the bookstore, the coffee shop, the phone call. Each time I had been presented with more puzzles than clues. I needed time to think about it.

_**Please say something -E**_

Oh, did you ask me a question? -B

Probably not -E

Well then -B

There was a pause in messages, and it lasted longer than I could handle. I went to brush my teeth and kept the phone on the vanity next to me, glancing at it every few seconds. Nothing...

I washed my face with cold water to cool down my skin. Walked back to my room, looking at the phone's screen, willing it to talk to me. I wanted him to ask me out and call it a date. Why wasn't Edward asking me properly? Did he change his mind? Did I say something wrong? Should I tell him how I felt?

I put on the grey tank top and blue boy-cut briefs I wore as pajamas to bed, all while not letting the phone go from my hand.

Why did he stop talking? I was mean to him, wasn't I? I scrolled through the messages, checking the whole conversation. How could he not get that it was a joke?

_**I want to see you too**_ _**-B**_

I typed quickly and hit "send" before I could change my mind. I threw the phone to the side of the bed and flopped myself into the pillow, face down. I prayed for a beep to come now.

It did a few long moments later.

_**And so you shall. I will call you tomorrow. Good night, my Bella! Sweet dreams -E **_

_**You too, Edward. Good night -B **_

I slept without any dreams that night.

* * *

**A/N: There are clues. I try to leave one or two in every chapter to hint about the characters or events that would happen later (sometimes much later). Find the clue, get a teaser for the next chapter :)**


	13. Chapter 12 Part 1 Third Man Walking

**A/N: Thank you to all my readers for staying with me and putting my story on your alerts. My special thanks to those who find a moment to leave some feedback.**

**I need to repeat that this story is covering some sensitive topics. The age difference between two characters here is what it is. Please consider if you're comfortable with it before reading.**

**Thank you to my betas twitchling, mopstyle and my pre-reader rags88. Also, my gratitude for tremendous support goes to saluki168, who helped me with this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

xxx

_I looked at the sweet precious girl, who was pouring her soul out in front of the crowd that I hoped appreciated, her effort. Deep down, I hoped she was reading that poem for me. I was thankful that she kept her eyes down and prayed that if she was sharing a part of her herself with me that she would forgive me for what I was about to do._

_I wasn't capable of being that regular guy next door, but the least I could do was keep Bella away from the monster I actually was. Before I could change my mind I turned around and left the store._

_xxx_

**Chapter 12**

**Third Man Walking**

**xxx**

**_EPOV_**

I slammed the door on my way out of the bookstore and blanched, afraid I was making a scene. The door stopped midway and closed slowly, making a soft melodic chime instead.

At that point I blacked out. The next thing I remembered I was at my bike blocks away from the store, both hands shoved into my hair. My scalp burned from my yanking on it so hard. Needing to take my frustration out on something, I kicked a nearby trash can several times.

I hated myself, and I wanted to go back to the store.

Leaning forward, I placed my hands on the bike in front of me and hung my head. Rage thrashing inside me was more than I could handle. I gritted my teeth, the familiar pain in my jaw flashed in a million bursting lights behind my eyes, blinding me. Why wasn't I normal like everyone else? Look at them, casually strolling by, not giving a damn, minding their own simple lives and business.

Well, fuck that. _My_ life wasn't simple. I could've gone out and gotten any girl, fucked her into oblivion, making her forget her own name in the process. Maybe I could forget my own, because fuck, sometimes I just wanted to stop being who I was and what was constantly dragging me, pulling me, and keeping me down.

But no, not only could I not have it straightforward; I also decided to get hung up on the one girl who I absolutely and irrevocably could not have. In fact, I should not even have let myself consider the possibility.

It was torture, but I couldn't hate Bella for making me feel that way. What I felt towards her was quite the opposite—I was grateful to this beautiful, innocent girl for stirring something in me. Because of her I was brought back to my childhood memories today, to the times when I had been truly happy, when mom had still been alive and before they had tried to separate us from Emmett and take Alice away.

Pushing a flood of bad memories away, I forced myself to think of good ones—the hours I had spent at the piano, too short to reach my favorite pedal, sustain, that made every note vibrate freely and helped my music sound in a smooth legato when my small fingers couldn't hold the notes for long enough. I thought of the times when I had lain in bed with my mom sitting next to me. As she would kiss me goodnight, she would stroke my hair to the side, look adoringly at me with her dreamy eyes and whisper reverently that when I grew up I'd be a famous pianist, performing around the world with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. After those talks I had always fallen asleep with the brightest smile on my face and dreamt of the big concert halls and the magical sounds I imagined I would elicit from the grand piano.

_Prodigal fucking child, look what you grew up into._

I realized with fear that I couldn't remember mom's face well anymore. It was soft and loving in my memory, but there were no details, it was blurry. I had her green eyes, Emmett her dimples, and Alice her high cheek bones, yet I couldn't put it all together into one clear image.

Bella's face appeared, floating in my mind—the deep brown eyes, plump lower lip sucked inside her mouth, delicate pink, coloring her cheeks—and I knew it wouldn't be long before I forgot her sweet face, too.

The thought of it struck me. I wanted, no, I needed to see Bella's face again. I was physically hurting at the thought of never seeing her again.

_What have I done? Is it all over for us? _the frantic voice in my head rang with panic.

_You go home_. Another voice was calm, collected, cold. I despised its frigidity and indifference, because it was the voice that was telling me to give up. Before meeting Bella, I had thought that I had already given up everything there was for me. It appeared there was more. So much more that now after abandoning it, I felt like dirt, like absolute nothing.

I patted my jacket, getting the cigarettes from the pocket. Dragging one out, I lit it up and inhaled deeply. The bitter taste of the first pull lingered in my throat and traveled down, filling my lungs, and blissfully clouding my brain. Ironically, nicotine-induced haze allowed me to function better. After a few more pulls, I reached for the handles of the bike on both sides, ready to start it.

Something was missing…

That was when, through the fog of my clouded mind, I realized I forgot my helmet at the store.

_Fucking fuck me now._

I couldn't fathom going back there. If I went, I would inevitably have to face Bella, and I didn't think I could handle seeing her upset or mad with me again. Knowing I was an asshole didn't mean I necessarily liked being perceived as one, especially by Bella.

There was no way I was going back into that store.

My feet started moving, propelling towards it, despite the protests in my head.

I needed my helmet, did I not? Riding without one meant a potential encounter with the cops, and I couldn't afford even a single ticket on my record.

All I had to do was get inside, walk straight to the counter and ask for it, and I could do that. Even if Bella was still in the store and could see me, she probably hated me by this point anyway. Why wouldn't she? I hated myself.

Or maybe she didn't care. Yeah, that would be better.

_Or a thousand times worse. _Upset or mad, shy or snarky, wringing wrists or with narrowed eyes in anger–any of those Bellas would be so much better than an indifferent one.

I sent the burnt to the filter cigarette into the wall and looked ahead, getting ready to walk back into the store. I froze, spying a familiar, small figure in a white t-shirt sitting on the curb of the sidewalk. She was hugging her knees with her head down and rocked slowly back and forth.

_Upset Bella._

I watched her for a long moment before deciding to get closer. Once I gathered the courage to speak to her, I made a step and extended my hand to touch her shoulder. I stopped mid-motion, disturbed by a quiet sniffle, followed by a silent sob, shaking Bella's body. My heart constricted at the painful sight.

I did that to her. I was the reason she looked so broken. I bit my cheek in disgust at myself; I shouldn't be _anywhere near_ this girl.

_Fucking poison_. _You keep ruining people. Get your stupid helmet and the fuck out of here._

Like a loser I practically tiptoed to the door. I opened it slightly, hoping it would make no sound. The chime was too loud and I could've sworn Bella heard it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her back stiffen, and I quickly squeezed through the door before she turned and saw me. Yes, I was a coward, in addition to all my other impressive qualities.

I shuffled to the counter with my hands in the front pockets of my jeans while studying the familiar pattern of the flooring under my feet.

I really didn't feel like talking to anyone, but if I wanted my helmet back, it would be unavoidable. With a mix of relief and annoyance, I found the space behind the registers deserted. I peeked behind the shelves and found the workshop going full swing in the lounge, the host was still droning on. These people kept going as if nothing had happened; no-one gave a shit.

_Bella thinks you didn't care._

I paced by the counter some more. Someone needed to come and give me back my helmet right now.

Why had I become so impatient? The helmet wasn't going anywhere, and I certainly had nowhere to rush to, either.

And that was the point, wasn't it? Aside from spending hours in my room alone and interacting with my family when it was necessary, I had no life. Somewhere along the way, a wishful thinking about some girl, which was a nice distraction from my miserable existence, became a real need. Stupidly, I refused to admit it until I came to the bookstore and talked to the girl. Yes, I fought it. For weeks. And then I fought it here today. It was absolutely useless. Bella wasn't some phantom idea, she was real and I wanted _her_.

I leaned with my elbows on the counter and ran my hand through my hair. Was there a possibility for me to go out to talk to Bella again? Otherwise, my only choice would be to keep going to Forks and watch her from afar until something stopped me. I was already fixated on her to the point where I wouldn't be able to stop that on my own. Bella was too good, too special, too precious, and the few euphoric moments when I considered her mine were the best ones in many, many months for me.

I wanted that feeling back. I wanted back what I already considered mine once, and it wasn't the fucking helmet.

Of course, I didn't expect Bella to sit outside the store and wallow for a long time. The little I knew about this girl already told me that her proud and stubborn sides would prevail soon enough, and with that she'd be gone. This was my last opportunity.

Snapping out of my trance, I walked around the counter, opened the cabinet and, with relief, found my helmet still there.

I moved for the exit on my legs that refused to bend. I was nervous as fuck.

Feverishly trying to decide how I would even start the conversation with Bella, I yanked the door open; the fucking chime rang in my ears, the pleasant sound dissonant with my scattered thoughts. I bumped into a chattering crowd of Japanese tourists with cameras in each hand (what the hell where they doing in Port Angeles?) and pushed a couple of them out of the way automatically mumbling, "Fucking sorry".

I rushed, because deep inside I already knew what I'd discover once I reached my destination. Deep inside, I fucking knew already that Bella would be gone.

As I stared at the red "no parking" line where Bella had been sitting earlier, the realization that I had lost any chance with her made me double over at the lamp post in anguish.

The calm voice in my head chuckled coldly, telling me to piss off already. _To_ g_ive up_. While the frantic, desperate one battered, "Go after her! Find the girl! Make sure she is okay!"

I knew which voice to choose to follow, so I fixed myself upright, zipped up the jacket, and raced back to my bike. As I went, I began calculating in my head how far Bella could walk since I saw her last. I just needed to find her, and wasn't willing to consider the alternative.

I rode frantically up and down several blocks, making a lot of noise and scaring the pedestrians, but I didn't give a fuck. I was fixed on the idea of not letting Bella drive back to Forks without talking to me. She had to allow me to defend myself, although I probably needed some sort of a divine intervention to come up with an acceptable explanation for my dubious actions before.

Bella was standing at the intersection of Lincoln and 1st street, facing the traffic. She wasn't crying anymore, but still, she looked fragile and lost. The strands of her hair were flying around her face, free from her pony tail. She didn't bother to remove them from her view, nor was she watching the road. She just stood there at the stop sign, with her mouth slightly open, and looked blindly into nothing.

Worried that she wasn't paying attention to the road, I was in front of her before she stepped into traffic. Seeing her so lost only solidified my desire not to let her go anywhere until we talked. Well, not anywhere far, we still had to move because it wasn't right that I was blocking access for handicapped people. The blatant disregard by many of such an essential need for others always infuriated me.

Bella looked startled at first, but when I took the helmet off and leaned closer to her, she bared her pearly whites at me.

I tried to stay calm and polite throughout our conversation. All I wanted was to get us somewhere quiet to talk. Bella thought I was kidding.

This time the calm voice inside my head was actually helpful. It ordered me to hold my tongue, which was becoming increasingly difficult to do, considering Bella had decided to insult my Harley. She called it _a monster_, and that didn't sit well with me. It was unacceptable, really, since I was kind of fixated on the idea of Bella's legs and arms around me on said bike, touching me with her small hands.

When she looked at me, expecting immediate explanations, I chickened out. The divine intervention didn't fucking occur, and within minutes my genius plan to drive her into the sunset was shut down. Bella refused to get on.

_Huh?_

She didn't want to ride my boy? I meant the Harley. The Harley!

_Fuck._

I could not think about Bella _that _way.

Concentrating hard on Bella's face... No, just _concentrating_, I wheeled the bike to the curb.

We immediately got into the most ridiculous banter with me calling Bella cantankerous (I had to use smart-dick descriptions to impress the girl, did I not?), which backfired, because Bella, in not so many words, suggested that I should get over myself.

_"It's you I can't get over,_" I wanted to say, but that would be as appropriate as admitting I had a mild obsession with her and couldn't go for more than a few days without secretly visiting Forks. _Mild... Whatever_. As if I didn't know better than that already.

We bantered. I teased her, tired of the constant tension between us. The spark in her brown deep eyes was back, and I loved it. Her responses were as lightning fast as they were unexpected. And damn, if I wasn't appreciative of the snarky remarks made by that girl before, it was about to change, because Bella and her smart little mouth were the hottest thing ever.

I enjoyed her presence way too much: her scent, her blush, and the view of that tongue that kept darting out to lick her lip each time she was uncomfortable–which was often. The girl drove me absolutely crazy.

I just had no idea what to do with my feelings. I was incapable of leaving Bella alone, yet I didn't know how to behave around her either.

It didn't take long for her to shut down, and if I didn't feel like shit before, the look of her slumped shoulders alone brought me to a new low. Cursing myself inwardly, I desperately searched for a way to make her stay.

I almost cried with relief when it started raining because I could use it as an excuse to invite her to have coffee with me or something equally time consuming.

This time the rain wasn't just the usual dreary drizzle—buckets came down, drenching us—and bringing my ultimate fantasy to reality.

I could see them through the suddenly transparent white t-shirt—the swells of Bella's breasts shadowing under the wet layers of the fabric. I should have averted my eyes as soon as Bella started blushing, but I couldn't. Her puckered nipples had a magnetic voodoo pull on me, refusing to allow my eyes to change their angle.

I'd been around. l'd had my share of non-relationships to argue I knew the shapes of a woman well enough to not be affected by a wet t-shirt. Yet, like a horny teenager who was just busted peering through a peep hole in the shower, I felt my face heat up.

Bizarrely, I didn't mind. It was nice to feel this excited again, besides, it was a welcome change in the direction of my blood flow.

It didn't mean I wasn't equally agitated.

"Don't you have a jacket or something?" I muttered accusingly because I had to deflect the attention from myself.

Of course she didn't. What she did have was an _I'm-pissed-off-how-dare-you-ogle-me_ look on her face when she started stomping away from me. I loved when this girl was furious. As long as she wasn't going too far.

The butt of her jeans was getting wet too. Wet meant tight. Pervasively, I pictured her grinding against me. The skin behind her ear sucked into my mouth, the taste of vanilla and fruit-punch lollipop on my hungry tongue. I struggled, not letting my eyes roll back, and groaned quietly.

I had to remind myself that no matter how much I craved to taste it, this fruit was off limits—forbidden. I had to keep my distance.

"Bella, wait!" I called out, conflicted as ever, taking my leather jacket off. Thankful I still had enough brain cells left to scramble one decent thought, I wrapped the jacket around Bella.

_The bag, you dickhead, the bag! Where are your manners?_

Kicking myself internally, I took Bella's backpack and slung it over my shoulder. Yes, that was the right move, finally! One approving look from Bella made my heart jump to my throat.

We spent some distance walking in complete and awkward silence. Even with my jacket sealed around her, Bella still looked cold.

"You're shaking," I noted. She shot me an irritated look. _What did I say?_ We needed to get somewhere dry and comfortable. Could this stubborn girl accept that I was right for once?

So, I made a decision. Without much ado, I grumbled about going into the coffee shop, and to avoid another argument, I simply grabbed her hand and pulled her inside.

xxx

Feeding or warming Bella didn't turn out to be an easy task. She barely bit into her scone and refused to try anything else, even though I bought half of the pastry display for her.

She looked very uncomfortable. I noticed that the only moments she seemed more content were when I was close. I couldn't deny the pull we had towards each other. Every time I touched her, a jolt of electricity charged through my skin; watching her reaction closely I was convinced that she felt the same.

I couldn't help my desire to spend more time with her, but I was terrified of jumping into anything serious. If I was going to be a gentleman, and I really, really wanted to, then I would have to pace myself. Taking advantage of the situation would only bring pain to us both.

"Are you still cold?" I asked, carefully studying her face. She was sitting on the couch, still wrapped in my jacket; it would probably smell like her when I got it back. Her lips were pink, but the skin on her cheeks had not a hint of color. I was worried she was getting sick.

"I think I'm just tired," Bella said with a deep sigh and reached up to her neck, pulling the collar of the wet jacket away with a wince. The marks from where it rubbed on her porcelain skin bloomed in prominent red, and I cringed. She looked miserable.

"Can you please wait for me here for a few minutes?" I asked, jumping to my feet as the solution popped into my head.

She eyed me with suspicion, but I decided not to explain anything until I come back, because I wasn't sure of the success of my idea. I was going to find suitable, dry clothes for Bella in the nearby stores in record time.

I raced down the block to the shoe store and ordered the sales woman to give me some rain boots for a girl who was about five feet four. She scrunched up her nose at me, indicating her displeasure by my drenched appearance.

"So, you don't know her shoe size?" she asked, moving to the back of the store.

"I have no idea. Her feet are small though," I replied, remembered Bella's funky shoes from weeks ago.

"I'd say try size six or seven." She brought two boxes with her and proceeded opening the lids. "I'd go for seven. It's the most common size, and I can get you a pair of thick socks in case her feet are smaller."

"She is very delicate," I argued protectively, feeling irritated for no apparent reason. Bella _was_ small, I started to worry about the fact that I left her all alone at the coffee shop. I had to hurry the fuck back.

"Then six it is. You can always return the boots within thirty days, unworn and with receipt," the girl stated in a trained tone. "How will you be paying for your purchase?"

"That would be cash," I answered quickly. _Always cash. _I proceeded to remove the money from my pocket. "I'll take the socks and this umbrella, too."

"That's be sixty nine fifty four, sir," I heard her reply. This time I liked being called "sir", there was a nice ring to it. I smiled back and nodded.

I was lucky to find something that also could work for Bella in the store right next door.

"New Couture designs!" The Ad promised in the window. "Warm and cozy!" Exactly what Bella needed.

I threw more bills on the table in the sales person's direction, sensing almost physically how the time was ticking away. I was afraid that Bella wouldn't wait for me.

"My friend, a girl, she is small. She needs something comfortable and warm," I announced to the woman behind the counter. "Can you help me to find something quick?"

The sales woman moved through the store swiftly, picking up a few choices at my request. I wished I could visit Alice's place, but there was no time, and if there was one person who I needed to keep out of mine and Bella's business, Alice was taking the top spot on that list.

I could do this without her help. How hard could it be?

"Okay, sir."

_Sir, again?_ I was beginning to like the whole shopping thing. I perked up, paying attention.

"I have several choices for you here. They are all in a size small, like you asked. Do you care about the color or design? What's your girlfriend's favorite color?"

I had no fucking clue. I hadn't seen Bella wear a lot of color. And Bella wasn't my girlfriend, but the sales person didn't need to know that.

"Something light?" I guessed. "She likes prints on her clothes." I smiled remembering the declaration on her t-shirt.

"Well then, we have a winner." The woman smiled back, picked out two articles of clothing in a light color, and wrapped them in some fancy paper. "It's very soft and comfortable, she'll love it."

"I sure hoped so, just now realizing that although I didn't consider it earlier, Bella could have actually misunderstood my intentions. The last thing I wanted was to end up with a 'Sugar Daddy' bumper sticker on my shiny car.

Come to find later that, indeed, Bella really wasn't happy about the idea of me shopping for her. In fact, if I had spent another few minutes hand-picking fine designer clothes for her, I might have missed her all together. When I came back to the coffee shop, she was standing, my jacket neatly folded on the couch, ready to leave. I could feel my face fall.

"Bella, please tell me you weren't leaving," I said quietly. "You promised."

"I promised?" She raised her voice. Glancing around, she lowered it to a hiss. "I didn't want to be here in the first place, remember?"

That really hurt, but yes, I remembered, and if she truly didn't want to be here, I would never force her.

I managed to give Bella half a smile as I rigidly lifted the shopping bag and offered it to her.

One look at the bewildered expression on Bella's face gave me a speck of hope.

"What is this?" she asked bringing her hand to her mouth.

I moved my wooden shoulders in an attempt of a shrug. "Something dry, rain boots and well, obviously, an umbrella. For you."

Bella blinked a few times.

"Edward... I..." She was mumbling. I was happy to find a glow of pink filling her cheeks; the color suited her.

She felt bad, I could tell, and I wouldn't have it. I had to work harder to deserve her sympathy.

"Bella, don't... I know. I keep messing up. Can I have a 'do-over'?" I asked, forcing a smile.

As usual, she had to complicate things. My piecemeal offering would only be accepted if my 'do-over' meant I'd tell her all about myself. She was asking for the impossible, because there was no way I could offer her the truth as my story.

I could _lie_. Why not? I was excellent at it—years of training made me a pro. But for the first time in so long I realized that I didn't want to.

Bella's clear, bright eyes gazed at me expectantly, making me extremely uncomfortable. She seemed genuinely interested in who I was; she wanted to understand me.

If only she knew. I was convinced that the minute I opened my mouth she'd see right through me. It would be over before it started. I was torn and thought desperately of the best way to handle it.

The best way was to _not_ lie. If I could find a way to spare Bella the details of my _other_ life... There was no way she could to be a part of it. I, however, very much wished to be a part of hers. Free of drama, anguish, and guilt.

In hopes of biding my time to think things through, I sent Bella to change into the dry outfit.

That was when the fun began.

**xxx**

Lavender, light purple, or whatever the color it was, was obviously not Bella's favorite.

_Duly noted, as I failed again._

And the large gold print on the back of the velvet pants I got for her didn't thrill her either.

As Bella was retrieving the outfit from the bag, I had to bite my lip, watching her reaction to the word _JUICY_ on the back of the pants, right where her juic... err, perky, butt would be.

"Don't even, Edward. I mean it. Don't tell me you had no idea what you were buying!" Bella sounded irritated. She didn't look like she was, though. I bet she enjoyed this whole idea at least a little.

I, for one, fucking loved it, and couldn't wait for her to try the suit on. If I hadn't already known Bella's ability to slice my head off in one effortless gesture, I would have laughed and rubbed my hands together in anticipation of seeing her in that outfit.

I also wouldn't have minded being in the room while she put it on.

Before I let my thoughts wander in _that_ direction, I reminded myself that I had to behave. I was going to be a gentleman, just like Bella deserved.

Mint tea (_the_ _hell? I don't even drink mint tea_!) was supposed to help to cleanse my thoughts. I sat with two cups of fresh hot drinks, waiting for Bella to get back from the restroom. Judging from how long it normally would take Alice, I was prepared to wait for at least an hour or so.

For Bella it took all of ten minutes. That was refreshing_._

Her hair was down again, still damp, in dark loose curls around her face. Her eyes were shining, and lips were parted, glistening. She seemed nervous, but honestly, in my view she had no reason to be. Even without an ounce of makeup, she looked radiant. I couldn't suppress the grin on my face watching her walk in my direction.

"I prefer _'no comment'_." She cast a warning look at me while stretching the hem of the new jacket over her hips. "And you are aware that I'm paying you back for this outfit, right?"

I pried my eyes from her fingers which kept running up and down, pulling, then smoothing the fabric that hugged her long slender legs, and checked the stern expression on her face. I had to think for a moment. Was it worth fighting with Bella over it? Something was telling me that I would lose. She was too proud, so I decided to let it go.

With relieved expression on her face, she sat down next to me, clasping the tea cup between her fingers.

There was certain comfort in the silence that fell between us. I felt her looking at me, studying me. I turned, raising my eyebrow in question. Was there something on my face? I wiped my mouth just in case.

"Your hair is shorter," Bella commented, catching me by surprise.

"What? Oh, Alice cut it." She did couple of days ago, since it was getting out of hand and bugged me.

_Shit._ I shouldn't have brought up Alice. I shouldn't be talking about my family at all. The less Bella knew, the better it would be for both of us. Too observant for her own good, she picked up on my reluctance immediately.

She told me she was an only child. I suspected that.

She told me her parents were divorced. I figured that out already on my own.

I saw what she was doing. Bella opened up, expecting me to show her I cared enough about her to share back.

I had to either give her something or walk away.

"I have no parents. They are both gone," I told her.

She gasped, covering her mouth. The deep sympathy in her eyes made me regret running my stupid mouth.

It was a mistake. Nothing good would come from digging in the past.

Bella had a different idea; what else was new, really? She dug hard.

"So, what were you doing at the book store?"

_Fuck me_. We were talking about the store again?

I closed my eyes, bracing myself.

"I came hoping to see you." There, I said it. It was a huge step for me from being a stalker to becoming a person coming forward asking for more, and I was instantly terrified.

"Why did you leave then?"

_Because I'm a selfish prick who wants you all to myself and knows it's a horrible idea_.

"Because I knew you wouldn't want me."

My troubled past, my muddy present and my absent future, I had nothing good going on.

"I am not good for you, Bella. You must know it," I insisted, knowing that none of it made sense to her. It barely made sense to me anymore. If I wanted her so badly, why did I keep pushing her away? If I was such a monster, what was I still doing here?

"I am capable of making my own decisions, contrary to what you seem to believe," she argued.

I wanted to believe her.

As if she heard my conflicted thoughts, Bella blew out an exasperated breath. "You seem to enjoy this pointless banter."

I was almost honest when I answered, "Not in the slightest." There was a part of me that definitely enjoyed that fire in her eyes when she argued with me.

One thing I knew with absolute certainty—I did not want her to leave. Somewhere along the way this girl became too important to me and I couldn't deny it anymore.

It was going to be impossible, but I was going to try to make us work.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. I am working on Part 2.**


	14. Chapter 12 Part 2 Third Man Walking

**A/N: I am happy to share the second part of chapter 12 with you. Thank you to all my readers for reading and supporting me. Special thank you to those who find the time to leave me reviews. **

**I have to remind everyone that this story is rated "M" for a reason, thank you.**

**My fabulous friend and talented vid maker Allysue08 had made a video trailer for "Sinnerman"; the link is on my profile, check it out, it's amazing! Thank you, Ally!**

**Thanks to twitchling, saluki168, and Rags88 – my incredible support team.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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**Chapter 12 Part 2**

**Third Man Walking**

**xxx**

_**EPOV**_

I woke up the next morning to a banging sound on my bedroom door.

Looking down, I found my right hand inside my pants, which was nothing unusual, and my left hand was clasping the phone.

For a brief moment, I considered stroking myself, taking the edge off, but one look at the screen of the phone and the continuing noise behind the door were enough to eradicate the morning wood problem for me.

"What?" I groaned roughly.

"E, get up, man."

"Jasper, what do you want?" I asked with irritation.

"Chop-chop, we've got to go!"

I hopped up from the bed and hid the phone in the pocket of my jeans before opening the door.

Jasper stepped in without asking for an invitation. He passed right by me as if I wasn't there.

Invasive asshole. Always had been.

Quickly gazing around the room, I silently exhaled in relief. My table was clear of paper, and the screen of my computer was off. He couldn't see what exactly I'd been up to. I vaguely remembered closing all the programs before going to bed. Jasper was the last person I wanted to know where my interests where lately.

"E, you've got ten minutes, get going, man."

"Jasper, I'm going to ask one more time. What the fuck? Why are you in my room and what's the rush?"

"I was just telling Alice, something's up with you. I just know it," Jasper said with a thoughtful expression on his smug face. "Wanna talk to me about what's bothering your pretty head, E?" He grabbed my face and pulled the skin under my eyes down with his thumbs, checking my pupils.

"What, you're my fucking shrink now?" I slapped his hands away and pushed him away.

Jasper chuckled, patting my shoulder. "It's my true calling, brother. And I can always tell the weakest link. Take you, for example…" He pointed his finger at my chest while I glowered at it. "The weakest I've ever seen, man. But I'm afraid that the shrink services for you are out of question. What if you crack and spill our big family secrets?"

"Really? I'm the weakest link?" I glared at him, pissed off he was getting to me so easily and that was how I started my day. I needed a smoke, and the asshole had to leave immediately.

Of course he had no intention to do such a thing. I hovered behind him as he moved through my room to my computer, flicked his finger over the mouse, and glanced at the screen. My blood boiled. "Get away from my work, I'm not done yet."

"Ah, I'm starting to worry you never will be." He studied my defensive posture for a moment. "Why does it feel like I have to do everything by myself lately?" he asked, sighing dramatically.

"Right. Because you're such a family man, a motherfucking breadwinner." I seriously considered punching him, already zeroing in on the perfect spot to aim for—right there, under the jaw on his left. I'd been itching to do it for so long. One right hook to knock him down for a while—enough time to go downstairs to eat my cereal and milk in peace.

Okay, that might not actually play out the way I was imagining. If I did that, most likely Alice would have _me_ for breakfast. When it came to Jasper, my sister was a menace, and I really didn't feel like messing with her today. Mostly, I wanted to hide in my room or to drive to Forks.

Because Bella hadn't called.

"Jasper, what do you want?"

I sighed, looking away from his smirking face, and stepped to the chair with my jeans. It took all my might not to reach for the phone in the pocket. Jasper eyed my movements around the room. With clean clothes in hand, I stopped at the bathroom entrance. "So, was there a point to your visit? I need to take a piss and a shower."

"So?"

"So, are you gonna get the fuck out or do you want to hop in with me? Check if my foreskin is clean?"

"E, never lose your sense of humor, man!" He laughed. "That's what I love about you, you can deliver a punch line."

I grimaced, sick of the games we kept playing—him pushing, me kicking back.

"I'll have you know, E, it's not as early as you think. It's already past ten." Jasper peeked inside my closet. I was surprised he didn't touch my wallet on the table to count the cash in it or look through the receipts. "Not sure what kept you up so late last night, care to share?" he asked, smiling. Though he seemed to think he was being smooth, there was nothing subtle about his moves.

I snorted. "Right, because you always do."

"Alright, Sleeping Beauty, we have big plans for today. Get ready," Jasper said, getting his phone out. He punched a few keys on it.

"I think it's your turn to explain. Care to share?" I mocked him as I walked into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face.

Within seconds, Jasper yanked the door open. I tried not to flinch, and I didn't shout for him to get out. There was no point in yelling or asking him for some privacy. Even if I called him a homo, he'd still be here, getting on my nerves. Like I said, invasive motherfucker couldn't be cured, and I had to live with it.

I stared at the white sterile tiles on the wall in front of me while taking a piss, reminding myself that everything this guy did was deliberate. He came to my room for a reason, but Jasper, being Jasper, he couldn't just talk to me man to man; there wasn't enough satisfaction for him in that. He wanted me shaken and stirred, all riled up, because he liked to test my self-control.

We both knew it; it was just a matter of who had tougher skin. Unfortunately, the score so far was not in my favor, but it wasn't stopping me from still trying to fuck with him too.

"We are going to Olympia," he announced. "I have a hot date for you lined up."

Shaking my dick and pulling the front of my pants back up, I turned to him. "Hot date? You do know our tastes are completely different."

So different, I intended to keep my mouth zipped about who I _really_ wanted to be my hot date from now on.

"No matter, brother, it's business, but you might need to mix it with some pleasure. Lucky you!"

I spit the toothpaste into the sink a minute later and gave Jasper a quizzical look in the mirror. I was waiting for him to elaborate.

Jasper leisurely leaned against the door frame, crossing both his feet and arms. His eyes wandered to the ceiling: he was lost in his own world, which I wished I never had to be a part of. Unfortunately, we were molded together, no way to disassociate us now.

"Let me hear about business first," I suggested morosely. "And I doubt about the pleasure."

"Never say never." He cackled. "It's going to be a slightly different assignment. It should help you to diversify your talents, expand your capabilities as a professional, so to speak."

I felt my jaw tighten, I did not like where it was going. "Keep going," I said anyway.

"There's this girl," Jasper started, I didn't have to ask him twice. "As it appears, she's got just the access we need, and you'll have to find a way to get it through her."

"New access codes?"

"Yeah, man."

"Fucking great. What was wrong with the ones I was working on? I've spent weeks!"

"Let's face it, it wasn't going anywhere. At the end of the day it wasn't worth the time we were spending on it," Jasper answered in a patronizing tone, making me grimace. "No worries, my new idea is a lot better. This one is our next big step, E. If we don't screw it up, which we won't, it's going to be epic, man. This is text book!" He shifted from his position, pushing himself off the door frame. Extending his hands over his head, he gripped on the top of the frame and stretched forward with a satisfied grunt. The asshole enjoyed the whole conversation way too much.

"Uh-huh, much better than the one I wasted my time on?" I asked.

"With much better reward, E, trust me." Jasper nodded, ignorinig my sarcastic tone.

Of course. Why else would he be changing horses mid-stream?

I snapped. "Well, I sure appreciate a fair warning. You could've told me a bit sooner, don't you think? So I didn't bust my chops on it for nothing."

"Yes, yes, your chops. We'll use them, just in different area this time."

"Different area?" I growled. I did not like where it was going at all.

"What's the matter, E? You can't handle a little bit of a challenge?" Jasper asked. He sounded light, but his eyes were probing, searching my face. "Do I need to worry about your commitment?"

Did he? Yes, he did. Motherfucker.

My commitment had nothing to do with Jasper. We wouldn't even be talking right now if it wasn't for my family, and he knew it.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm.

"Did you talk to Rosalie and Emmett?" I opened my eyes again, meeting Jasper's hard gaze. I didn't have to ask about Alice since we kept her out of our business matters as much as possible as part of our "family protection plan".

"Yeah, man, to Rosalie. It's all cool. Discussed and decided." Jasper lightly punched the door frame with the side of his fist, enunciating the words.

Of course I recoiled. "Oh, so you and Rosalie are now deciding who I'm sticking my dick into? Forget it!"

"Whoa, man!" Jasper protested. "No one here is whoring you out."

Fuck, how I hated my life.

I saw myself in the mirror. My eyes were almost black; I looked possessed. A dead soul, a poison, a monster—whatever it was I carried within me— it didn't stand a chance of salvation. The knowing smirk plastered on Jasper's face behind me only served as confirmation of that thought. I could keep denying it, but really, we were two peas in a pod. Him and I, we were brothers in all but blood. Except, while I resented everything about myself, Jasper had embraced it and kicked it up several notches. I even envied him somewhat—he was so sure of himself, knew exactly what he wanted and how to get there.

Envy, however, wasn't something I _wanted_ to feel when it came to this manipulative bastard. Without responding, I quickly changed and stepped into the hall with my wallet and keys in hand.

"Listen, man." Jasper grabbed my shoulder trying to stop me; I shook it off. "E, wait, you know how it works." He followed me down the stairs and kept talking. "We all carry our weight. If you can get what we need without touching a single girl, that's fine. No one gives a flying fuck how you achieve it."

His idea was crumbling before his eyes; of course he'd say anything to get his way.

"I'm not saying yes," I answered. "Give me the details in the car. And I'm driving." I latched to whatever little control I had in this situation.

It was quiet downstairs. Rose sat in the kitchen looking through some papers, she waved without raising her head from them. By a force of habit, I noted the expression on her face. It was calm and focused, which meant she'd had a worry free night. Just seeing that made me feel a little less mad at her and her controlling nature.

Nonetheless, my appetite was gone. I passed the kitchen and went straight to the carport outside the house.

Jasper whistled something out of tune while planting himself on the passenger seat next to me. "Alright, E. Here's what we're doing."

For the next hour, he shared with me his new plan, and I had to give him props—it had a clever idea behind it. The cynical part of me even considered that in some ways this job could be kind of fun. When it came to business part, of course.

We had an agreement a long time ago that we would pursue jobs only when everyone on our team voted 'yes'. Despite my resentment, I couldn't deny that Jasper's new plan sounded good and could make us worry-free for awhile.

Outside of our extracurricular activities, Jasper and I had absolutely nothing in common; there was not a lot to talk about. After driving in silence for a while, Jasper, clearly bored, pushed the power button of the radio. A talk radio show came on, something about yet another issue erupting in the Middle East.

"Man, how can you listen to this crap?" Jasper fiddled with the buttons on the radio to change the station.

"Jasper, leave it alone." I switched it back.

"C'mon, E, it's boring as fuck, I need some muzak. Da entertainment, you know?" He pushed his hands up a few times, imitating the beat of the music, before reaching for controls again.

"I've already told you before," I warned him, my voice tight. "My car, my rules. Watch the scenery outside, relax."

"What am I, some teenage boy who gets off at the sight of green bushes?" He quickly rolled the dial of the radio.

The violins of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto number One flooded the car, followed by a strong, flawless theme played on the piano. I knew this piece like no other—this recording was by Cliborn who performed the Concerto in Moscow in nineteen fifty eight. The piece was gorgeous, complex, and also a trigger for me. Instead of providing pure joy as it should have, it tormented me with flashes of the events I wished to forever erase from my memory.

I wanted to cover my ears or kill the source of the music. The first option was for little girls, and since last time I checked I owned a dick. I clenched my teeth and hit the power button with the ball of my palm, extinguishing the sounds.

"You don't like it? Aren't you the talented musician in the family?" Jasper chuckled ruefully, condescendingly.

I was a man and wasn't taking this shit any longer.

The last string holding my restraint together popped, hissing, in my head. I shook, while my fist smashed into the dashboard. The radio coughed and started a spattering staccato of music, which made me see red. I hit the panel again and again, sending my anger into it until there was nothing coming out of the speakers except static.

"Dude!"

Somewhat disoriented, I twisted to Jasper with my fist still in the air.

"Got more to say?" I scowled encouragingly.

"It's all cool, E," Jasper said slowly, soothingly, raising his hands up in concession. "All green. I'm doing the scenery, man. See?"

He shifted closer to the window and turned away in demonstration. I eyed him angrily, taking calming breaths, while the gleeful voice inside my head hooted that I was getting closer to evening up our score.

"Just fuck off," I offered complaisantly, the dull pain in my knuckles felt strangely pleasant.

"Alice will have a stroke, E, just sayin'," Jasper muttered into the window after a while, still watching the wall of trees passing by.

"I never wanted this car." I had just acted like a juvenile, and now sounded like one. What I hated the most was showing weakness in front of the man I couldn't allow myself to lose my cool around.

I rose from my seat and pulled the phone out of the pocket of my jeans. It was powered off. Strange, since I didn't remember turning it off. It couldn't be Jasper's doing, as I'd had my clothes with me the whole time while he was in the room. I pushed the power button on. The screen was as blank as my future. I pressed the button again, already knowing the outcome.

The phone was dead. I had it on all day yesterday and was checking it all night before I had fallen asleep with it still in my hand.

What if Bella did call? What if she wouldn't call again thinking I didn't pick up on purpose?

I didn't need a shrink to deconstruct my actions—clearly Bella's non-call was the main reason for taking out my aggression on the radio.

I had no particular regrets about losing that source of entertainment. Living my life waiting for the call that wasn't coming was a different story. Not ready to give up hope yet, I considered buying a car charger in Olympia, but then, I'd have to ward off Jasper's curiosity, since I never cared about my phone that much before.

Basically, no matter where I turned I could never win.

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked to distract myself.

"Northwest. There's a shopping mall not too far away."

"Sure. Shopping."

"You might as well try it. Aren't you sick of all your old clothes?" Jasper talked as if nothing had happened only a half an hour earlier. The guy had the skin of a rhinoceros, while all I wanted was to skin myself. For two reasons. One—this way Jasper would never try to get under it again. And two, well, I fucking hated the skin I lived in, why else?

"My old clothes are just fine." I grumbled. Having Alice on my back about that was more than enough.

"Doesn't matter to me. Although, if I were you I'd try to clean up better for your new job." He smirked.

"I'm not spending money on clothes," I said stubbornly, not taking my eyes off the road.

"What exit should I take?" I asked as the first sign for Olympia came to a view.

None of us ever used a navigation system or printed directions to have no traces of our plans. Everything we needed we kept in our heads.

"Take Black Lake Boulevard exit, keep left," Jasper instructed, sitting up more straight. "And seriously, we are parking at the shopping mall, it's closer. We're almost out of time."

"I bet they have security cameras."

Jasper shrugged. "Good luck going through a weeks' worth of data looking for what exactly?"

I disagreed but didn't argue.

"So, E, this chick always eats at the same place, which is good for tracking her down initially, but I'd rather you didn't go to the same place too many times."

We parked on the ground level of the parking structure and crossed the street. The food court was crowded at past one o'clock in the afternoon.

"This is her break time," Jasper said as we sat down with our sodas. "There, see those two chicks? The one you need is in a... uh, something that looks... Is it pink? Shit, I think I'm gonna go color blind if I look at that for another second. You look!"

I snorted and searched the tables before us for two girls, one of them was supposed to be in...

Whoa, that was pink, alright. And are those ruffles on that blouse? Who the hell wore ruffles nowadays? It wasn't nineteen eighteen anymore, but it looked like the girl didn't get the memo.

Despite her getup, she could have been actually pretty if… If she had lush chestnut hair, big chocolate eyes and plump rosy lips. Well, the girl would have been beautiful then. But for starters she was blond, and she wasn't Bella. Therefore, there wasn't a fair comparison.

I winced at the thought that in order for me to get the security codes I most likely had to seduce the blond girl in neon pink.

I turned to Jasper, who appeared to be watching me, while he slowly rolled a coin between his poker-trained fingers. "What if I steal it?" I suggested hopefully.

He shrugged. "She'll report it, and they'll change all the codes."

I whispered, "Fuck." Of course, he was right.

"Boy, why don't you just go with the flow? What if you like her? She ain't bad lookin'." He flipped the coin in the air and pinned it down to the back of his hand. "Head or tails?"

"Head," I chose absentmindedly still studying the girl.

"Man," Jasper chuckled, "and you're telling me that _I am_ one-track minded."

I turned to him, confused.

"Your chance for a head," he nodded to the girls, "is right there."

Money and sexual innuendos—I personally had no questions about the depth and dimension of this man's mind.

"Your pimping skills lack refinement." I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, let me think."

"Think, man, think. We need this." The smile disappeared from his face. He pulled his brows together. "Honestly, E, you're making a big deal out of nothing. All we need for her to be distracted for one hour."

"How do you suggest we do this? You want me to distract her and duplicate the code all at once?"

"We could drug her," Jasper thought out loud, assessing the girl.

"Absolutely not. I am not doing that. Besides, don't you think she'll report me after waking up?"

"You should pick tails then." Jasper placed the coin on the table and pushed it to me, smirking. "Head doesn't seem to be in your future."

Oh, it would be. Eventually. Maybe. If it wasn't so disgustingly complicated.

I didn't allow myself to think of _Bella's_ lips that way, forcing a wild fantasy away.

I thought of the dead phone in my pocket with longing. If she had called and decided not to leave a message, I wouldn't even know it.

The situation was sick. Here I was, laying down the plans to charm some random girl I couldn't even look at, while the only girl I wanted might want nothing to do with me.

"So, what's the plan, E?" Jasper asked impatiently. "How are we doing this?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Why couldn't I just sit in my room and code? The plan I considered clever just over an hour ago now seemed absurd and far stretched.

"Decide already. Man, there is no one but you to do this. You're damn good looking and the only single in the family."

I rubbed the back of my neck, looking everywhere except at the table with the blond. "I don't think so, Jasper. I don't like it."

"What's the matter, E, are you saving your virtue for someone special?"

_If I had a virtue._

"_Is _there someone, E?" Jasper kept probing; the asshole picked up on my hesitation immediately. "Someone we need to know about?"

"None at all," I replied firmly, glad that my voice didn't betray me. "I have no one."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem." Jasper narrowed his eyes at me. "Should it?"

"I said, there is no problem, Jasper." I needed to end this conversation before I got myself into deeper trouble. "I.,. I'll do it."

"There you go, that's the spirit." Jasper offered me a fist and I bumped it half-heartedly.

"Let's talk details of your date, E."

xxx

I drove back home like a maniac. Jasper had to remind me several times about the speed limit and the roads infested with cops and the radars. The dead phone burned a hole in my pocket. I vowed to myself to buy a new battery and a car charger, and cursed myself for not thinking of it before.

With my hands shaking, I plugged it to the power as soon as I made it back to my room. "Come on, come on," I whispered impatiently, watching the carrier's logo stuck on the screen for far too long.

The phone had finally beeped on, and my heart sank—there were no messages. Bella didn't call.

The clock on the screen showed six-thirty p.m. The feeling of anticipation and hope floating around my heart all day was dwindling, slowly lowering into my gut in a form of a growing pit.

This was what I got for thinking I could have a ray of sun in my life.

I sat on the chair, with my elbows on the table, supporting my head in my hands.

"Edward, dinner is ready." Alice's chirpy voice entered my room.

"Thanks, Alice, I'm not hungry," I muttered into my hands, not feeling like looking at her. Her boyfriend took the last of my energy today, somehow I found myself frustrated with her, too.

"Okay," she answered, not hiding displeasure in her voice. "If you don't want to spend time with me and the family…"

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "I'll be down shortly, Al, just give me a sec, okay?" I needed a few minutes of quiet time away from all that madness, expectations and passive-aggressiveness.

"Yeah, sure." She left as quietly as she came. Alice was so light I didn't even hear her using the stairs.

I looked at the phone again. I knew where I'd go as soon as the dinner was over—I'd be taking a ride to Forks. If I couldn't hear Bella's voice, if I was denied of that simple pleasure, I had to seek the next available on the list. I'd go to watch her.

I couldn't go whenever I liked, especially when it was too bright outside. I hadn't been taking my bike either; it was too distinct and too loud for me to stay inconspicuous in a town as small as Forks. Getting there late meant dark. When at night and having no shame left, I simply stood behind her house, outside of her backyard, and watched her bedroom window. On rare days when the curtains weren't closed, instead of just being graced by the shadow of her pettite silhouette, I could actually see her walking around the room, chatting on the phone, typing on her computer or writing or reading on her bed.

Over time I convinced myself there was nothing wrong with my actions. It was like watching a movie at the "drive-in" or admiring a beautiful piece of art. I just merely observed a girl from afar—no harm done.

Today felt different. The girl not only had a name, she also had little pieces of me: a few things I picked out for her, and my phone number. It seemed wrong that I lured her to call me by giving her a condition, but at the time it felt like the only way I could see her more and meet with her like a normal guy.

She didn't have to pay me back, she didn't even have to feel obligated, that was on her, but I was happy she said she wanted to. That gave me hope.

However, by eight o'clock in the evening the hope was almost gone. Bella didn't call me yesterday, and she didn't seem to rush to contact me today. I wasn't sure what to think, repeating to myself over and over that this attachment would cause me nothing but pain.

At eight-thirty I had arrived in Forks. I aimlessly drove the streets of the town, which were almost dead at that time of the day. At nine-thirty, losing all sense of preservation, I left the Volvo practically next to Bella's house. I considered knocking on her door, as stalking just wasn't cutting it for me anymore.

Her father officially carried a gun, which posed an issue. He might use it if his daughter chose to not recognize me or told her dad that I was some loser who tried to buy her innocence at the mall. The possibilities for her father to end my life in legitimate ways were endless, but I didn't care, I just wanted to see her and hear her voice again.

Pacing in the dark by the fence of Bella's backyard, I kept looking at the light coming from her window, afraid it would be a repeat of the nightmare from the previous evening. After coming back home from Port Angeles, I went on obsessive search for anything related to Bella Swan: I finally broke into the school database and found her transfer papers. I greedily absorbed everything I could find. She came here from Arizona six months ago, she'd been in advanced classes and had impeccable GPA. In her file she was described by her teachers as "shy", "quiet," an "introvert", yet "assertive when spoken to." I believed it. I even looked up her mother.

No less obsessively I was checking my phone for accidental missed calls.

If I wasn't staring at the phone while circling around the trees at the back of Bella's house, I would've probably missed the first ring, I was so delirious. The call from unknown number could have meant anyone, but my heart stopped beating when I saw it light up on the screen—I knew in my gut the call was from Bella.

I pressed the answer button and then, like an idiot, realized that I had no idea what to say. How was it possible that I had waited for this call night and day and hadn't thought of rehearsing the conversation?

"Hello?" Bella's voice was breathy, soft; I felt the wind knocked out of my lungs at the sound of it.

Hearing it, I still couldn't believe that she finally called. My knees were slightly shaking when I found a dry patch under the tree and sat down. It felt as if the tension around my heart had finally let go of its tight grip, and I could relax.

But not for long.

A few minutes later, Bella had me pacing along the road, driving me nuts with her questions. She wasn't exactly obtrusive or forward, she asked about simple things that any other guy probably wouldn't find that difficult to answer. Where did I go today? How was my day?

_My fucking day was fucking great! I got a new assignment, did you know? I might have to fuck some girl in exchange for what my family needs. And god, do you know that I can't even stand the thought of it? That I feel trapped, helpless and cheap, no matter how many times Jasper uses the words "business" and "family" while trying to convince me?_

My self-loathing projected onto Bella. I had the audacity to ask her why she had even called me.

I should have asked myself why I had answered the phone and why I was in Forks, instead. That would be fair. But I didn't. I was far too gone to give her up. This girl was mine.

Once I saw her thin form appear in the window wrapped in a blanket, I lost sense of time and space. I was so taken by her sight I missed the car approaching Bella's house.

Shit.

Instinctively, I covered the microphone of the phone and quietly moved closer to my Volvo, but without revealing myself.

Craptastic, it was a police car.

I watched it park right across the street and the cop getting out. Worried, I wrapped up the conversation—the cop could be a very bad news.

I felt like an old fart when Bella suggested that I text her, because I used texting very occasionally, selectively. It was weird, considering my line of work, but I hardly utilized texting or even instant messaging. I truly led the life of a recluse with very little contact with people outside of my family.

In Bella's case, I didn't care what I had to do to stay in contact with her. Fuck, I'd use carrier pigeons if I had to.

I watched the cop walking around his car and moving towards the house across from Bella's. He knocked on the door and looked in the direction of my Volvo again while waiting for the answer. My only hope was that it was dark and he was too far away to see the license plates. The door flung open, a young woman threw herself at the guy standing on the porch, and I smiled. Lucky bastards.

I wanted to be that guy.

For now, I had to go. Staying here was too dangerous. Cops and small towns were the worst. I planned to text Bella as soon as I got home, but this episode made me think that it was very telling—the minute I felt comfortable, something had to make me jump and run.

Was that how my life was going to be?

How about in ten, twenty years?

Would I be still running?

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**A/N: Like it? Love it? Want to hunt me down because I am making Jasper such a jerk? Let me know.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	15. Chapter 13 The Line of Saturn

**A/N: The amount of alerts, and reviews I had received from new readers after this chapter blew me away. Thank you!**

**Have questions? Want to chat? You can find me on Twitter (at)detochkina.**

**My special thanks to my wonderful betas: Saluki168, who is a godsend and all around awesome Twitchling - my amazing friend, my anchor that keeps me grounded and my boost that helps me grow. Rags88 – my pre-reader and bestie. :)**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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**Chapter 13**

**The Line of Saturn**

_**BPOV**_**  
**  
My room was in perfect order, clear of clutter, dusted off, and smelling fresh. The only messy part was one corner by the window where the books that filled the shelves always reigned free, and I loved it that way. I blew the tendrils of hair away from my face and looked around. There wasn't much left for me to do—I was officially out of tasks to keep me occupied. It was only ten o'clock in the morning on Saturday.

"Bells?" Charlie rapped lightly on my bedroom door. "May I come in?"

"Sure, Dad. What's up?"

Charlie walked in, glancing around quickly. He hadn't been in my room in a while. The changes here were subtle, but, almost six months after I had moved to Forks and into this house, I could say that the room was finally mine.

"It looks different in here," Charlie noted smiling. "I can't put my finger on it, everything is almost the same. I mean the paint is fresh, just a little darker, and the books…" He gestured to the impromptu bookshelves he had built for me just a couple of months earlier.

"It's not Suzzallo Library, of course," I joked, though I was very proud of my little collection and still missed the rest of my books that had been left in storage in Arizona. "I wish I owned one like that though." I sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed by such a nerdy confession.

We'd gotten more comfortable over time, Charlie and I. I even went on several fishing trips with him, which turned out to be an incredible bonding experience. I didn't fish; we all knew that it wasn't the point for me when we got together. I either read or watched the water, which always had a calming effect on me, mesmerizing me with small ripples and splashes. I never minded _that _kind of wet, and during those times I didn't miss the brown and the dust of Arizona. We didn't talk much—Charlie and his old time friends who accompanied us during those trips weren't chatters—but there was something endearing and heartening in our quiet times together. I was at home there, on the small boat with my father.

"Bells, I just came to say that I heard from the Newtons yesterday that they're hiring at their camping store for the summer. I thought you might be interested."

"Dad..." I groaned. "I don't want your influence on those people."

"I didn't tell them you wanted it. I don't think I'd be comfortable doing that either." He grimaced.

"Thank you." I was relieved.

"You wanted a job. This is a good opportunity; the Newtons are nice people. Call and ask if they'd interview you. There are probably plenty of kids who want a job there." I didn't like the image Charlie was painting. Would I have to beg for a job? "Don't look at me like that; if you really want something, you should be trying no matter what. My status in Forks won't go anywhere regardless of whatever job you'd apply for around here… there's always going to be bias."

That was true. I guess I just needed to face it and make sure that when I was hired I didn't let Charlie down.

"You're right." I sighed. "I'll call them."

"If I were you, I'd call them this morning, honey. Jobs are not easy to come by in this town. There are probably adults who would want it too."

My phone beeped, making me flinch. Jessica? After yesterday morning at school I had a feeling I might not hear from her for a while. It still bugged me, and I knew I'd have to deal with it eventually because Jessica was my friend, and it was obvious she was mad at me for something.

Edward? It must be him. My hands started to shake.

"Honey, are you alright?" Charlie asked; nothing ever escaped that man.

"Yeah, please hang on a second." I grabbed my phone.

_**Good morning, B –E**_

My fingers flew across the keypad. I wanted to answer right away, but Charlie was still standing and looking at me, his eyebrows shot up in question.

"I'm sorry, sir," I mumbled and pointed to my phone. "I need to answer that. I'll call the Newtons right after this. Hopefully I'll get an interview."

"They'd be lucky to have you, Bells," Charlie said proudly. "You're the best kid a parent could ask for."

I snorted. "I haven't gotten the job yet, hold your flatter horses."

Before we started giving out "best parent" and "best teen" award of the year to each other I needed to answer Edward's text. I looked unambiguously at the door, and Charlie finally got the hint.

"Okay, kid, I see you're busy. I'm going to Harry's place and will be back later tonight. The usual."

"Sure, Dad. Fun times," I murmured and picked up my phone.

Nothing existed around me anymore; all I knew was that Edward was waiting for me to respond.

I was looking at the screen, already having a proper response composed in mind, when I vaguely registered Charlie's foot steps as he left the room.

_**Good morning, E :) –B**_

_**You're smiling. Good. How did you sleep? –E**_

_**Very good, thank you. You? –B**_

_**May I call you now? –E**_

My first reaction was, _Yes, yes, please! _But I didn't type that, because it would probably look too desperate.

So, I sent something else instead.

_**You said you would –B**_**  
**  
The phone rang almost instantly. _Be still, my heart._

"Hello." Edward's voice was tentative, quiet.

"Hello, Mr. Bank," I joked.

He chuckled. "I thought we were on a first name basis already."

"If you say so." I smiled.

"Bella," Edward said my name slowly, drawing each syllable out. He felt so close, like he was breathing right into my ear.

I closed my eyes, listening.

"It's Saturday. Have any plans?" he asked.

"Mmhmm." I hummed, basking in the warmth of his voice. I had no plans if they didn't involve Edward and his husky voice.

_Oh, crap, _I remembered and opened my eyes_. _I did have plans_._

"Ugh, I need to make a call and possibly have an interview today. I'm trying to get a summer job. And I have a paper to write." I tried hard not to sound whiny.

"I see."

I thought I heard a quiet sigh.

"I'm learning that I shouldn't be asking you about _your _plans." I trailed off. Did I step into that forbidden "no questions allowed" territory again?

The sigh wasn't that subtle this time.

"No, you can ask, Bella."

"Great." For whatever reason, I couldn't come up with anything relevant at the moment. Mainly I wanted to know if I would see Edward again.

It was trivial and far too needy. A girl with a crush I was indeed. My heart beat so loudly, I was afraid Edward could hear it, too.

"So, Bella. I'm planning to be in Port Angeles tomorrow."

"Yeah?" I wasn't sure what to do with that information.

"Are you busy tomorrow, too?" He let out a sound that seemed like a cough. Was he uncomfortable asking me that?

"Not really." I tried to play it cool. "Why?"

_Ugh, needy! I should have stopped at "not really"._

"I was thinking we could meet," Edward suggested. If I stopped overthinking everything, I would have sworn that he was trying a little too hard to sound casual.

Did I mind driving my old truck an hour to Port Angeles to meet Edward? Not at all. Was it a little presumptuous of him to assume I would do it the second he asked? Absolutely. But then, I reminded myself, Edward told me that he would like to see me a lot, and having exactly three places for going out in Forks, meeting Edward here could create a gossip storm I wasn't ready for. Charlie, Jessica, and even Angela would know about it within an hour. Port Angeles was a much better choice.

"It's an hour drive for me," I finally answered, inwardly cursing myself for bringing it up. My pigheadedness sometimes surprised even myself.

"I could pick you up," Edward offered.

Riding with Edward on his Harley all the way to Port Angeles? _Yes and please. _Except, I doubted that Charlie would be very thrilled with that idea.

"No, it's fine, I'll meet you there."

"Great. What time works for you, Bella?"

"My day is open." Gah, could I be any easier?

"How about at noon at the coffee shop again? We'll figure out what to do from there," Edward suggested, and he sounded a little more relaxed.

"Sure. I'll see you tomorrow." My voice broke a little. I had no idea how I was going to survive until tomorrow.

"Have a good day, sweet girl. Good luck with your interview."

"Thank you." I hoped Edward's words would indeed bring me luck.

xxx

Charlie's laughter boomed from downstairs; the care-free sound of it surprised me. My father laughing was a rare occasion. Maybe it was a great day for him too. Good, the man deserved a break.

I walked down to the kitchen, where I saw Charlie and a dark-haired man in his early thirties, Diego, who worked with Charlie at the police station.

"How come you're still here?" I asked, grabbing a carton of milk from the fridge and cereal and pouring both into a bowl.

"We're waiting for Billy, honey. He's running a little late," Charlie responded, still chuckling at the joke told prior to my arrival.

"Hmm," said Diego. He glanced up at us and put down his cup of coffee. "Speaking of which, it seemed like you had a late visitor yesterday."

Charlie and I exchanged a puzzled look.

"Late visitor?" Charlie asked before I did.

"There was a Volvo, looked like a silver color, nice car, parked right next to your house last night. It was around ten in the evening."

"Nope, no late visitors in our house." Charlie glanced at me, and I shrugged. I was an obedient teenager who stayed out of trouble; my father had no reason to worry about me.

He smirked. "Maybe the visitor was going to the house across the street?" There was an unmistakably wicked gleam in his eyes. "There is a beautiful young woman living there. Besides, what were _you _doing out so late on our street?"

"Patrolling." Diego blinked innocently. He looked as convincing as a boy caught red-handed in the cookie jar.

"Uh-huh." Charlie sipped from his coffee cup casually. "Patrolling. Even though you had not been assigned to this route. You were just being thorough, right, Officer Gomez?"

Officer Gomez blushed deep crimson and mumbled, "Right", raising his cup up to his face.

"Okay, that wasn't awkward," I commented to myself. They might have heard me, but I was so thoroughly amused by Diego's reaction, it was kind of fun for me to support my dad in a good joke. "Lots of late visitors on Wisteria Lane."

Charlie looked at me as if I was losing my mind. I waved my hand at him, "Too much Jessica. Carry on."

Taking a few more spoonfuls of milk sprinkled with floating cheerios. I rushed through my meal, pretending that there wasn't loaded silence in the kitchen. The twinkle in Charlie's eyes told me that Diego would have to suffer through a day full of jokes at his expense. I had to hide my smile while I was washing my dishes.

As I went back up the stairs, I remembered something.

"Dad, I'm going to Port Angeles tomorrow." I figured I'd take care of telling him now and while there was someone else in the house. Charlie might think twice before questioning me in front of a stranger.

"Port Angeles? Again?"

Darn, apparently Charlie-the-parent didn't care much about what Diego-the-subordinate would think. I slowly turned to face my father.

"Yep. Something came up, but I won't be there too long." If Charlie decided to ask me what exactly had _come up_, I would have no clue what to say. I was completely unprepared.

The loud knock at the front door saved me.

"Well, that must be Billy." Charlie shot me the "don't think we're finished with this conversation, missy" look before going to foyer to open the door, and I promptly bolted upstairs.

xxx

Just as I suspected, lining up an interview with Mrs. Newton turned to be simple and quick. She was happy to see me in the afternoon and three hours later I walked out of "Newton's Camping and Outfitters" as the store's newest employee. The pay I was offered was good, the hours were even better, and considering that the pet shop was about to let me go because they were on the verge of closing out, I couldn't believe my luck.

On my way out of Mrs. Newton's office I was greeted by a jubilant Mike Newton. "Bella, I knew you'd get the job!"

He attempted to hug me in congratulations.

"Whaa, Mike." I shot the look at his mother and awkwardly squeezed between him and the door, thoroughly embarrassed. "I'm very happy too, believe me."

"We have to celebrate!" Mike suggested eagerly, matching my brisk walk through the store; he was smiling a big, bright smile. "Wanna go somewhere tonight?"

That would be a "no". Not only did I have no desire to go anywhere with him, Mike also was the son of my new boss.

"Um, thank you, but I have paper I have to finish tonight."

"Crap, I think I have one too." The smile on his face slid down into a frown, but he quickly shrugged the worry off. "Well, I'll see you on Monday. Are you starting here in a week?"

"Right after we're done with school," I confirmed, happy to push open the exit door and walk outside. Trying to be polite I stopped and looked at Mike, hoping the conversation would end at that point.

"Which means I'll see plenty of you here." Mike winked, buoyant again. "This is going to be a fun summer, Bella, you'll see."

Unlike Mike, I didn't find a lot of appeal in that promise. I jingled my keys. "Gotta go. My paper's waiting and all."

"No problem, I'll talk to you later." He lightly bumped his fist against my shoulder—an all around friendly gesture—and I breathed in relief. Mike was a nice guy, an outgoing, good-natured kid, who could get overly excited about things. Like Jessica. They were obviously made for each other.

I vowed to call my friend by the end of the weekend if she hadn't called me herself first. Thinking about that, I realized that it had been eating at me all this time.

_Tomorrow, _I decided_. After I see Edward in Port Angeles. I will talk to Jess, and we'll be all squared away._

xxx

"The paper," I said loudly to myself. "Get on it." I sat down in front of the computer and cracked my knuckles. "Let's do this."

It was ridiculous how much it wasn't coming together. I struggled to get any research done and kept wandering off, daydreaming about seeing Edward the next day. I gave up on the paper an hour and a half later and climbed into bed with a book.

Reading one of the greatest love stories on the night when you were longing to experience one on your own could only lead to one thing for me. Instead of helping me to forget about the time that was ticking by too slowly and lulling me to sleep, it reeled me in and wound me up even more.

With the open book still on my chest, I watched the shadows from the trees outside dancing lazily on the ceiling of my room. Mesmerized and feeling every crevice of my body filled with yearning, I sucked on my lower lip and moved my hand from the hard cover of the book to the soft hem of my tank top. With a quiet groan, I pushed my fingers under the stretchy shorts I normally slept in and felt my nipples respond and prickle under the heavy pages of "Dangerous Liaisons".

Shifting my body slightly to the side, I let the book slide off my chest, allowing me access to the hardened flesh of my breasts. Touching softly and finding the sensitive skin under my fingers beading even more, I felt myself become wet under the fingers of my other hand.

Never before had I experienced such a strong ache, such immense longing. There was only one person I could thank for feeling this way.

"Edward," I whispered fervently, sliding my fingers over my ache. I closed my eyes, imagining his lips on mine, _his _fingers on my skin. I wanted to feel his weight, his body hot on mine.

I remembered the strong musky fragrance of Edward's jacket and wished I had thought of a way to keep it when I still had the opportunity, so that tonight I could bury myself into it and pretend it was Edward engulfing me, though I knew it would never be enough.

I wanted to hear his husky voice, whispering "_Bella girl, my sweet Bella_" into my ear. My mind reeled over hope that Edward might say those words again to me tomorrow. And just the possibility of it, the sweet anticipation, pushed me over the edge. Feeling my muscles tense, I climaxed with a stifled moan, circling my hips under my hand until the waves of pleasure subsided and left me spent but not fully satisfied.

I fell asleep with my hands still covering the parts of my body that I dreamt would be touched by the one person I believed to be worth belonging to.

xxx

Sunday morning I took a long, hot shower, brushed my teeth twice, shaved, and thanked the inventor of a flat iron. After I finished working on straightening my hair, it actually looked decent, even under my scrutinizing eye. As the final touch in prettification—I used one of those nose strips that promised to remove blackheads. It stung like hell when I ripped it off, which meant I'd never use that fine and mighty product again—once was plenty.

I left the bathroom as ready as I could be and needing to pick out a 'going out' outfit for my… What should I be calling what I was about to have with Edward? I thought about it, replaying our conversation in my head. He didn't exactly ask me out. He said he'd be in Port Angeles and was "thinking we could meet". Very non-committal, but technically, it still was an invitation to go out.

So, it was a _non-date_. Less pressure, right? I shrugged to myself in the closet mirror and stuck my tongue out. I was going to see Edward, why would I need to attach a label to it?

For the first time since my arrival in Forks, I faced the task of dressing up in something other than clothes for school by myself.

I mentally tried to step into Jessica's shoes. _Okay, Jessica, what would you wear for a date, err…_ _non-committal going out_? I glanced through the window, finding a gloriously bright morning, which made me relax a little. At least I didn't need the rain boots again. But what _did _I need?

Argh, forget Jessica, it was me, and I was meeting Edward at the coffee shop, it wasn't like we were going to the opera or something. I was definitely nervous, so it was a 'no' to heels and skirts, and a 'yes' to casual comfort with style. I snorted—good luck to me pulling the _style _part off.

Still, I tried. I picked a light blue cotton camisole and a denim military-style vest with a row of bronze buttons on each side. The cut of the cami was low enough to show a little bit of skin. Considering that, I opted for a navy blue satin push-up bra. Yes, we were going to use heavy artillery when it came to lingerie. Not that I was planning to actually put said artillery to use, but I counted on it to boost my confidence and it was already working.

Simple light gray khakis fitted me well, and I hummed in approval as I turned around, checking out my outfit. Dark gray suede gladiator-style sandals completed the look. I could safely say that I looked cute enough to like myself in the mirror, and that meant a lot in my book.

I walked into the coffee shop a few minutes before noon, afraid that I came too early. I should have made myself fashionably late, but I was too anxious to wait. The place wasn't crowded like the last time I was there. Nervously looking around, I found Edward at our spot with his head down, reading a book. And by _our _spot I meant the couch we sat on together several days ago. My heart swelled from the realization that he had picked that particular spot to wait for me. I took a moment to study him from afar. He looked somewhat different, probably due to the fact that he was in a gray cotton shirt, the long sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and black tennis shoes that looked slightly better than the scuffed, beat up biker boots I had seen him in before. This time his jeans were light denim and I noticed what I would call a 'fashionable rip" in the knee area. The sexy biker appearance was gone replaced by a lighter, cooler look that suited Edward so well that I sighed, all of a sudden feeling too plain.

Edward's posture, however, wasn't exactly the picture of relaxation. He had one leg hitched over another and nervously jiggled his foot in the air; his fingers made continuous circles over the cover of the book—someone was impatient too! Even if I was wrong and it wasn't me causing Edward to look like he was about to propel from his seat, I smiled and indulged in the fantasy for a moment.

"Hi, Edward," I addressed him softly when I was just a few steps away.

A wide smile appeared on Edward's face before he raised his head up to look at me.

"Bella." He got up, closed the book and placed it on the table.

I restrained myself from making another step and wrap my arms around him. By the way how Edward shifted on his feet while pressing his arms to his sides I assumed he wasn't sure how to greet me either. All I knew was that even if it was a quasi, semi, non-committal kind of date, I wasn't going to shake hands with him as a welcome.

After an awkward pause, I nodded to the table. "Whatcha reading?"

"Uh." Edward ran his hand through his messy hair and eyed the book before he reached for it. His white hand with long, beautiful fingers pressed on the cover, gripping around the corners; he slowly pushed the book to me. "I brought it for you."

"For me?" I grinned.

"Yeah, I thought you'd like it."

I looked at the title, surprised. "Borges? Wow, you do have a very good memory."

Edward shrugged. "It's only been a few days." He then smiled timidly. "And I told you, it's easy when it comes to you."

"Edward?" I asked, not sure how to express my mixed feelings. On one hand, I was touched and flattered that he was so considerate, that he kept trying to make me feel good. On another, I was conflicted about him continuing to give me things while there was nothing I could offer him in return.

What made me even more vulnerable was that it seemed he understood. "Bella, Bella, shhh." He brushed his fingers over my hair, moving it to the back. Even though he didn't touch me, I shivered, feeling the skin on my exposed neck erupt in goose bumps. He frowned and rubbed the side of his thigh, watching the movement of his own hand. Looking back at me, he murmured, "This is just a used book. I'm not giving it away; I'm letting you borrow. If you don't need it, I'll take it back."

I shook my head and lift the book off the table, claiming it.

"It's the one, isn't it?" I referred to what I was reading at the store before the indie workshop. "When did you buy it?"

I probably had a look on my face that told Edward he couldn't play this one down. I would be offended if he didn't tell me the truth, and we both _knew _the truth.

"Yesterday," Edward said, glancing at me once. He busied himself by dusting invisible dirt off his sleeve with the side of his hand

"I see you've read some of it." I dropped my bag on the floor and sat down, sinking into the cushions. I looked at him in invitation.

"I knew some of Borges before, Bella." He pursed his lips and hesitantly perched next to me. "I've read more since," he added, leaning on the ball of his hand closer to me.

Studying the back of his hand, I noticed visible bruises covering the knuckles, which I didn't remember seeing last time. Suppressing the urge to brush my fingers over the purple marks and trace the blue of the veins under the thin pale skin, I opened the book and flipped to the index.

Edward stopped me by placing his hand on mine. "What's your favorite?"

I didn't have to think long. "Aleph. What's yours?"

"The Garden of Forking Paths."

"Why?" I asked, knowing the short novel very well.

"Wanna play a game?" Edward responded without answering my question. _Typical_.

"Sure." Anything that helped me to learn more about this man.

"So, Aleph. Give me one word that comes to your mind when you think about this story." An imploring smile played on his lips.

"And you will tell me yours." I made sure it didn't come out as a question; he wasn't the only one who could set the rules here.

"Loss," Edward said without a pause, and it took me a moment to realize that he already started—that was the first word that came to his mind.

"Infinite knowledge," I offered in return.

Edward cocked his head to the side. "That's two words. Pick one."

"I didn't take you for a stickler."

"Oh? How do you take me, Bella?"

_Last night I dreamt of you taking me._

Too late I realized that my obviously not so pure thoughts were projected on my face. The blush licked up my cheeks and my eyes were hooded. Edward was watching me with a slack jaw and a darkened gaze. Looking down, I relished in the warmth of Edward's hand still laying over mine.

I forced myself focus; Edward was still waiting—patient, quiet.

"Knowledge." I made my pick.

"Alright." He nodded and then gave me a lopsided smile that had a heart-melting effect on me every time it appeared. "The game is not over." He wanted me to elaborate.

"I figured. The gift of learning about the universe; the infinity of knowledge concentrated in one small point of space, just the possibility of it, fascinates me."

"Hmm. But you don't get to learn anything you could apply in real life. It's not like you get to read a new book or study a new formula by looking through Aleph."

I could tell that he was challenging me.

"You can never study them all. But you get to see different angles of the real life situations. You get to find the past, the present, and the future of anything or anyone you want, especially people who matter to you."

I watched Edward's eyes tighten as his hands returned to his lap. Did I make him uncomfortable with my honest answer? But why?

"Why 'loss', Edward?" I asked quietly. I was honest and it was his turn to pay in kind. That was part of our game and we set the rules that applied to both of us.

Edward pushed himself to the wall, leaned back, and stared at the plastic bag with the name of the bookstore on it that lay on the table. "The protagonist lost the woman he loved. The Aleph had the meaning for him mostly because in some form it gave him back what he lost."

Seeing that Edward wouldn't add anything else, I asked, "What about 'The Garden of Forking Path'? Is there any _positive _meaning to you in that story?" I accentuated the word 'positive' hoping to shift the gloomy mood suddenly clouding our conversation.

"In one word?" He took the book from me, poked into the side of it and split it open at the dog-eared page. He smiled at me. "Since I can only use one word," he expressively rolled his eyes, "I won't start quoting, though it's very tempting."

"You set that rule," I retorted, having full intention of not letting him get off easy.

"Who's a stickler now?" he teased.

"You're deflecting. Don't think I don't see it."

"Fine." He turned serious. "The word is 'choice'."

He chewed on his lip as his eyes lost focus. I wanted to be in his head at that time, to be let into his mind so I could know what he was thinking.

"Choice to take a certain path?" I asked.

"No, the choice is made before you take a certain path, Bella." The expression on his face was heavy, his green eyes so intense, I had a hard time holding his gaze. "You make a choice and you live with it. Your path is set, no way back."

"Not according to Borges. There are multiple choices and paths and different versions of you. Can you imagine that there could be another version of Edward somewhere out there, doing something else, living a different life? Borges said it's like a labyrinth. And it's entirely possible, if you search for long enough, for those paths to cross at some point, become one. Isn't Borges genius?"

"Brilliant," he responded.

Was he being sarcastic? I searched his eyes, but he wouldn't look at me.

I figured it was time to change the subject.

"You know…" I twisted my body to turn to him and sat more comfortably, tucking one leg under the thigh of another. Feeling a physical need to touch him and trying to come up with a reason to do so, I reached for Edward's hand. "When I was about eleven, my mom was into palm reading." I gently turned his hand in mine and placed it on my lap, watching for his reaction. He blinked slowly once, the look in his eyes softened, took a deep breath through his nose, and flattened his hand on mine.

Emboldened, I gripped it firmer and lightly circled my index finger over his palm in a slow motion. "My mom obsessed over it for a little while and moved on, like she always did." I smiled at him, but he didn't return it, sitting completely still.

"Breathe, Edward," I whispered and tugged at him to move closer to me. He complied by inhaling loudly and shifting to me a little.

"Mom had told me that you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their main lines. Would you like me to tell you what I see by looking at yours?" I stopped my hand, letting my fingers hover over the softness of his skin, barely touching it. The prickles of energy grew into something more, charging between us.

Edward groaned and closed his eyes. His hand shifted on mine, pinning it down, and that was my answer—he wanted me to continue, he liked my touch. Just the thought of it sent my heart racing.

"See here?" I tried not to sound breathless. "This line," I traced the line that began from the space between the thumb and index finger and ran down towards the wrist, "is your line of life. It breaks in a few places, which means you suffered some hardship." I looked at him checking his reaction. He shrugged. I concentrated on the feeling under my fingertips again and continued, "But... Do you see these small branches going up?" I touched the mount below his thumb. "Small lines running up at the line of life represent good health and wealth. You're covered, Edward," I declared, smiling.

He snorted.

"I know, but it's all about what you believe," I replied to unspoken words.

"Do _you_ believe in it?"

"Not really, but it's fun." I couldn't think of one hobby Renee was into that translated into something productive or remotely useful.

"It sure is." He nodded, leaning closer to me. "I'd like more of your..." he nudged our hands, smiling, "…palm reading."

I cocked my brow. "Want to know about your line of heart?"

"Yes, please, Miss Bella, do you read tarot cards as well?"

"Unfortunately, mom skipped that class." I sighed dramatically. "I'm left absolutely clueless on that account."

"Bummer." Edward laughed. "And here I was, hoping for a full reading for free."

"With your wealth line looking like that?" I joked. He appeared uncomfortable again, and I quickly dropped it, checking his palm again. "So, your line of heart is the one that runs right on the edge of your palm, closest to your fingers."

I started tracing my finger once again. "The long, deep line, such as yours, could mean that you're an ideal romantic. However, it could also mean that you're possessive and jealous." I continued brushing against Edward's skin even after I stopped talking.

"Well, maybe I am."

I looked at him in confusion.

"Maybe I'm not a romantic, and more of a possessive type," he said, his face serious.

"Doesn't possessive mean passionate?" I blurted out and regretted the implication of my words right away.

Edward's stare made me fidget. I pulled my instantly clammy hand from under his and reached for my bag to store Borges away.

"And what do you know about passion?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"I.." I fidgeted some more, pushing my new book into the bag.

"That's what I thought."

That wasn't fair. He had no right to undermine my feelings or lack of experience.

I snapped up from the bag. "I'm not a child."

He regarded me wordlessly, with straight face—beautiful, impassive face. Why was it that I found him attractive even when he frustrated me?

Jutting my chin, I rose on my feet and accidentally hit the table in front of me. The pain in my shin radiated through my body and I bit my lip to stop the cursing.

"I have feelings," I told him a moment later, probably sharing too much because I couldn't think clearly. "You don't know anything about them or me."

"And you know nothing about _me_," Edward responded.

I wasn't stupid; I could tell he was doing it on purpose—to push me away.

"I know some things," I argued, the pain in my shin forgotten.

"Tell me then, Bella. What do you know?"

"I know you're here."

The rest of what I wanted to say was stuck in my throat. I wanted to tell him that behind the tough facade he shielded himself with I saw a gentle, thoughtful person who'd done nothing but care about me. I also wanted to say that he was kind, and smart, and… Well, I could also tell him how beautiful I thought he was, and that I could stare at his face for hours, given permission. I sighed quietly while fidgeting with the button on my vest, knowing that I would never have the courage to say something like that out loud.

I felt Edward move next to me. Before I could process it, his hand reached to me and gently nudged my chin up.

"Look at me." He held his fingers at my face, not letting me turn away. Regardless of how much I tried to stay angry, my pouted lips gave me away. His soft, raspy laugh disarmed and bewildered me. How did this man's mind operate? Just moments ago, he seemed miles away from me, resentful, and now he was smoldering me with the most tender and warm expression.

"Breathe, Bella." Edward chuckled softly again. I weakly smiled back. "Do you want to get out of here?"

I thought about it and nodded, and as if Edward's job of blowing mymind away wasn't already done, he took my hand and tangled our fingers together, causing my poor, inexperienced heart to speed up.

"Let's go then." He pulled me forward.

It seemed that it was either a full stop or full speed with Edward. Grabbing my backpack from the couch, I practically ran as I let him drag me outside.

"Where are we going? Please slow down." I panted, making three hasty steps to match each one of his. I followed him like a thread attached to a needle.

"You'll see." Edward mercifully slowed his pace. "There's something I want to show you."

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**A/N: The stories mentioned in this chapter are "Aleph" and "The Garden of Forking Paths" by Jorge Luis Borges.**

**Thank you for reading. Next chapter is almost ready, I am hoping to post it sooner than in two weeks. Review and I'd be happy to send you a teaser.**


	16. Chapter 14 Warbucks

**A/N: I am overwhelmed by the amount of love I'm receiving from my readers. Thank you for reading, putting my story on alerts, and for reviewing. I truly appreciate it.**

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* * *

_xxx_

"_Where are we going, Edward? Please slow down." I panted, making three hasty steps to match each one of his. I followed him like a thread attached to a needle._

"_You'll see." Edward mercifully slowed his pace. "There's something I want to show you_."

xxx

**Chapter 14**

**Warbucks**

**_BPOV_**

We walked several blocks away from the mall, away from the concentration of cars and the noise of the streets.

"Where is it we're going?" I asked again, still huffing from our somewhat brisk walk. "Does this 'something' have a description?"

Edward looked at me smiling. "Of course it does. But it's better when shown than described." He gently pulled me again, leading the way.

By the look and sound of it, we were headed to the Olympic Discovery Trail. I briefly assessed my gladiator sandals; they weren't exactly appropriate for a cross-country power-walk.

"At least I'm not in a skirt," I muttered quietly into Edward's back.

He turned to me. "You need to learn to speak up, Bella."

"I hate surprises," I said louder.

He smirked. "That's not what you just said."

I scowled playfully, indicating that I wasn't going to repeat my whining for him to hear.

The paved part of the trail ended and Edward proceeded down onto an endless, curvy off-road path. I slowed again, afraid to twist my ankle on the unpaved, uneven track.

Edward stopped, looking at me worrying my lip. "Are you okay to walk some more, Bella?"

I shrugged; as if he already didn't know that I loved walking. I just wasn't in the best footwear for the trail before us. "I'll be fine, as long as it's not too far."

"Not far at all."

Somehow I wasn't convinced, probably because I didn't see the end of the trail in sight.

Edward studied my not-so-sure expression and frowned. "Would you like me to carry you?"

Was he serious?

He wasn't smiling.

Oh, god, Edward wanted to carry me. _Like a child._

"I'm old enough to walk on my own, thank you."

Looking at me as if he was almost hurt that I rejected him, Edward nodded and moved forward without another word.

This time I made sure to match his steps, and instead of trailing behind him, walked by his side.

My hand was still in his and I didn't mind it even one bit.

Edward glanced at my giddy expression. "What?"

"Nothing," I mumbled. If it wasn't a big a deal to him, why would I object if we looked like boyfriend and girlfriend? Of course I blushed just from thinking about it, well aware that Edward noticed it.

"Do you do this a lot?" I gestured around. That successfully made him turn away from my red face.

"What exactly?"

"Walking, hiking."

"Sometimes."

Edward pointed out to a large branch obstructing our way. He squeezed my hand more firmly, supporting me, as I carefully stepped over it.

"Alone?" I asked.

Could I be more obvious in my attempt to find out if Edward had taken other girls for walks?

"I come here to clear my head. What do you think, Bella?"

What did _I_ think?

I wished I had an idea. Edward was killing me with his vague responses.

As we walked further, I started to notice the changes in the landscape around us. We already passed through a more dense forest area and started moving through some withering ferns; all this time I was paying more attention to the trail under my feet than to the nature surrounding us.

"Bella," Edward stopped right in front of me, blocking my path, "I understand you don't like surprises. But this one is worth it. Trust me?"

"I trust you."

"Close your eyes, please," he asked. I did so without hesitation.

"Keep them closed until I tell you, okay?" Edward whispered right next to my ear, making me hitch my shoulders and squeeze my eyes tighter.

"No peeking," Edward reminded me, slowly navigating me ahead. "Wait for it… Wait for it." He ran his fingers over my exposed upper arm, tickling me and making me giggle.

Since I couldn't see, I concentrated on what I could hear and feel. There was the warmth of Edward's guiding hand and the sounds of the crunch under our footsteps mingled with our uneven breathing.

Just when I was about to ask Edward if we were there yet, he announced, "Now, Bella," and I opened my eyes at his command.

I was instantly blinded by the bright light coming from all directions.

Involuntarily, my hand flew up to shield my eyes, and I blinked a few times trying to adjust to the sun. We were standing on the shore, the panoramic view that opened before us made me gasp.

"Yeah," Edward sighed softly. "I thought you'd like it."

"It's really gorgeous here, Edward," I whispered, not being able to tear my eyes from the view that was stretched for miles before me. It was all water, water, water—peaceful, glistening from the reflection of the sun that was high in a clear blue sky. There was barely a hint of breeze in the air, yet it wasn't hot, and the weather was ideal for our excursion. With no disturbance from the crowd of people, this place was a perfect spot to unwind and let all the insignificant things go.

"I know, it's quiet. Not a lot of people know about this spot," Edward responded, echoing my thoughts. "There is an old mill." He pointed at the small ancient looking house that was sitting lonely not too far away from us. "But it's now abandoned. I think they want to restore it and turn into a museum with a restaurant to attract more tourists. For now, it's a little secret sitting off the beaten path."

I sighed in appreciation. "I've been by the water before, but never on this side. This is something else, Edward."

We stood together for a few minutes, our hands still intertwined, and admired the view until Edward shifted and gestured to the large log several feet away from the water. "Do you want to stay here for a bit?"

I gazed around again. It was too perfect—the weather, the waterfront, the calm, content expression on Edward's beautiful face—I didn't want to move from here.

Edward waited for me to sit down before lowering on it himself, and when he finally let go of me, I wasn't sure what to do with my hands anymore.

"How is your leg?" Edward asked me suddenly.

"Huh?" I checked my legs, they seemed to be looking right, and though my toes were dark from the dust, there were no signs of something being wrong.

"You bumped your shin at the coffee shop. Did it hurt?"

He had noticed?

"No." It definitely didn't hurt under Edward's tender and sympathetic eyes.

He placed his hand on my shin over the khakis and looked at me in question, ready to retract it at my first protest. I would never. His fingers began rubbing just the right spot below my knee, lightly, cautiously, and he murmured, "Do you think it will bruise?"

"Maybe. It's not a big deal, really." I smiled, appreciating the soothing but firm touches of his caressing fingers. When he withdrew them, I was left with a slight ache and an overpowering feeling of gratitude.

"Bella." He sat straight, looking at me imploringly. "Tell me what you're thinking. Your face…" He paused, searching for words.

Flustered, I touched my slightly flushed cheeks. "What's wrong with my face?"

"Oh, there is absolutely nothing wrong with it, believe me." Edward laughed softly shaking his head. "Studying your face trumps the palm reading, I assure you."

"You don't know that," I muttered, embarrassed right away by my own admission.

Pressing my fingers against Edward's skin when we had been at the coffee shop was absolutely the best feeling in the world, he simply had no idea.

"I know that when I look at you," he said, "your expressions fascinate me. Your smile is infectious even when you seem sad. When you frown I want to wipe your concern away. And when you are angry at me, you look so fierce. I don't like it when you're angry with me, Bella. But I like your fierceness. Is it wrong?" Edward took my hand again.

_Did I just die and go to heaven?_

Was Edward saying something important? Yes, yes, he was, that was why I completely spaced out. It was impossible to believe what he was telling me, but it felt so good to hear.

I shook my head, no, it wasn't wrong. How could such thing as Edward liking something about me be wrong?

Overwhelmed with emotions and tongue-tied, I looked down at where we were joined—my small, freckle-ridden hand was in his large, perfectly smooth alabaster one.

"I wish I knew what goes through your mind every time I see a new expression on your face." Edward sighed. "What are you thinking right now?"

"That I must be dreaming," I blurted out.

Edward chuckled, evidently pleased. "Is it a good dream, Bella?"

"It's the best there is," I answered honestly, because all bets were off, all filters were gone. His earnest words possessed me, made my brain soft and my heart weak.

As a response Edward's fingers ghosted over the back of my hand in feather-light circling touches. The undercurrent of electricity flowing between us was subtle, but insistent, and the sensation was so pleasant I wanted to hum.

"You know, the feeling is mutual," I braved to share at last, and turned to stare at the water. There was almost no movement, and I felt the same way—I wanted to freeze time and live in this moment forever.

"Which one?"

I turned back at Edward. "I want to know your thoughts too. Especially when you _don't_ smile, frown or aren't angry. It's when your face is unreadable that I worry the most and I want to know what you're thinking. It happens more often than you would believe."

The conversation was unreal. It felt like our guards were finally down, and in a way I was glad. I didn't know what had changed—something did—and maybe this was a good time to figure out what was happening between us.

"I'm good at concealing. It kind of comes with the territory." Edward shrugged.

"Territory? You do realize that I have no idea what you mean?" I tried to hide my exasperation and wasn't doing a good job.

Again, Edward's hand reluctantly left mine. I watched as he rose, made a step forward to pick up a pebble from the ground and sat back down. He used the balls of his hands to roll it around while studying the motion intently. Pathetically, I envied that little pebble.

"There isn't much to say," he finally said as a matter-of-factly.

I begged to differ, but I didn't voice it. Because I already knew that pushing Edward never achieved anything, and arguing here at such beautiful, harmonious place seemed wrong.

I glanced at him sideways, feeling like lightening up the conversation. Edward did a double-take at me.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

With my hands on the log beside me, I extended my legs out and curved my back in a stretch. Waiting for Edward's response, I lolled my head to the side and looked at him.

He threw the rock into the water breaking its perfect stillness and turned to me. "Tell me what you are thinking, right now."

I listened to my thoughts for a moment. "Everything and nothing," I admitted. "I like it here very much, thank you for bringing me."

"Do you miss your mom a lot?" The question came out of nowhere. A faint sound of alarm buzzed off in my head, how did Edward know…

"You mentioned that your parents are divorced," he said quickly, probably reading confusion on my face. "And your friend Jessica talked about your father who lives in Forks. I assumed you live with him."

That was a wild assumption, but fairly logical. There was no reason to pay attention to that brief nudge under my heart telling me that Edward had no reason to assume I lived with my dad. Was I that transparent about missing Renee? Or was Edward that observant?

I had a hard time believing that he cared enough to spend time piecing together information about me. And again, gazing at the sexy shadow of his stubble, long dark lashes, and his perfect lips that I was so attracted to, I questioned what we were doing here. Why was this gorgeous guy still talking to me?

Edward was looking at me expectantly, and I frowned. _Ah yes,_ I remembered, _the question about my mom._

"I do miss her, she is…" I looked for the right words to describe Renee, "…she's funny, warm, smart, and beautiful, can't hold a job even if her life depends on it, and is a terrible, terrible cook. She's wise and confused all at the same time and she's constantly searching for something. Something brilliant that will bring spark to her life as she says, but I think she's already got it. So, it irritates me sometimes, but I also know that if she ever stops, she'd probably be miserable. It's just who she is."

I peeked at Edward, worried that my talking about my family would come off as insensitive and would upset him. Though my parents were divorced, they were alive, and Edward's weren't.

He raised his hand and combed it through his hair. I watched his fingers massaging his temples, bunching and stretching the skin of his forehead above his dark brows. I didn't make a sound, didn't move and just watched silent Edward as he sat next to me with his shoulders hunched forward, as he was slowly nodding in a rocking motion to his own thoughts. Was he, like me, thinking about his parents? At least he had siblings. Was he close with them?

To break the heaviness permeating the air between us, I got up from the log.

"You know what else I was taught?" I asked and scanned the ground. "I'll show you, but I'll need your help."

Edward hopped up on his feet as well.

"I need a few stones that are flat, light, and somewhat round." I spotted what I was looking for a few steps away and picked it up. "Like this one."

Edward laughed. "Bella, what are you gonna do with a rock? Try to bounce it across the water?" He sounded skeptical.

I gasped loudly, showing how appalled I was. "I'm offended. Not _try_, it _will _bounce! And this is not a rock, you can't bounce a rock!"

"Semantics." Edward waved his hand, while searching under his feet.

"I disagree. It's very important. And just so you know, between me, Renee, and her husband Phil, I'm the record holder. You don't stand a chance."

"You're on, girl. Let's do this." Edward dumped several stones on the ground next to him and narrowed his eyes at me.

I put both hands on my hips, cocking my head. "Boy, prepare to lose."

Edward tossed his head back and laughed, the sound of it was so infectious and buoyant I started snickering too.

"Tell me you're afraid," I implored, poking his ribs lightly with the stone in my hand.

"No. Little girls have nothing on me." Edward squirmed under my tickling touches.

"Ohhh, you are so going to pay for that comment."

"Ah, I'm so looking forward to that. You better make good on your promise."

"Move a little, I need space and I need to concentrate."

"You're taking it seriously, aren't you?" To my surprise Edward complied and stepped away.

"Oh, I'm dead serious. I'm very competitive. And you haven't seen me with darts yet."

"You visit bars?" Edward asked, feigning innocence in his question, even though I registered a flash of… concern? Jealousy? It couldn't be. Besides, I was too young for bars, we both knew that.

"No, I visit Toys-R-Us, silly," I scoffed him playfully. "That's where they sell them."

It was the most magnificent thing in the world—to see Edward laugh. I wanted him to do it more often, and I vowed right then and there that I would try to be his reason for it.

"So," I said, tossing the stone from one hand to another. "I have a feeling that I need to educate you on the subject."

Edward kept chuckling; I noticed that his eyes were the brightest color of green—shining, happy.

"Some consider a stone-skipping across water a form of art," I started. "Others prefer to call it a sport. I'll have you know that stone-skipping was mentioned by Shakespeare in his early work." As I talked I walked along the shore, passing Edward back and forth.

"Early work, huh?" Edward interjected.

"Yes, Edward, very early. Don't interrupt, please." I stopped and gave him a scornful look. "I suggest you take notes, the pen is in my backpack." I flicked my hand to the log in a gesture resembling a teacher's pointing to the board. I was lecturing him and enjoying every moment.

"No, it's okay, I have excellent memory."

"Lucky you. Anyway, you need to know the following: spin, speed and angle," I walked by Edward once more, accentuating every word with my steps, "are crucial factors in stone-skipping, with angle being most important. Twenty degree is considered the most optimal."

Returning back to my spot, I stood facing Edward but turning my shoulders to the waterside a little.

"Don't tell me you're applying physics to throwing a stone." The expression on Edward face was a mix of amusement and disbelief.

"I totally do, and if you were smart and wanted to win so badly, you'd do that too."

"Ouch! What if I'm not smart but strong, do I have any chance?" Edward batted his lashes at me.

"None," I deadpanned. "Hydrodynamics, gravity and momentum—ring any bells?"

"Oh, man." Edward dramatically grabbed his head with both hands. "I'm fucked."

"My point exactly," I agreed with a tight grin. It was impossible to keep a straight face—I was having too much fun. "Now watch and learn, Edward. You're about to be seriously schooled."

I placed the stone between my thumb and index fingers and took a position, with my hand at my thigh. "Don't forget to count," I reminded. Edward smirked at me, clearly not thinking that I'd give him a reason to worry about me beating him.

I smirked back. _We'll see._

With my eyes closed, I took a slow, exaggerated breath and sang in a deep, low voice, "Ommmm."

Edward snickered. I opened one eye at him. "Sir, I'll have you removed for distracting your competition."

"I'm sorry, I'll be good," Edward promised in a loud whisper. I nodded sternly and closed my eyes again.

"Any time now," he whispered again.

"Shush!" I ordered.

With a quick inhale, I snapped my eyes open and looked ahead at the water. Outstretching my arm to the side, I drew my body through a throw; my back and arm muscles sprinted, responding with a familiar pleasant burn. Applying necessary speed and angle, I sent the stone in just the right trajectory that made it fly flatly above the water.

The stone hit the surface with a soft splash, making quick, light jumps over it. We both began counting in unison, "One, two, three, four…" The stone kept skipping further, and I kept counting, not being able to wipe away a gloating grin splitting my face. "Nine."

Edward whistled.

I started doing chicken dance. "Ha? Ha? What do you say, my dear Edward?"

"Pftt," the response from him was exactly what I had expected. "Is that the best you could do?"

"No, I'm a little rusty right now. The question is can_ you_ do better?" I arched my eyebrow and pointed my finger at him.

"Most definitely not. Stone-skipping isn't my forte," Edward admitted. "But of course, I'm willing to try. Will it help if I use '_om_', too?" he asked without cracking a smile.

I shook my head. "No way, 'om' is my personal ritual. Get your own."

"So that's what it is? A ritual?"

"Yes, it's one of the ingredients of success, Edward. Some jump three times and some spit over their left shoulder before the throw."

Edward looked at me like I was insane, and I broke into laughter. "Aww, poor Edward, so clueless. And you thought I'd be an easy prey." I was mean in my teasing, and I was also interested to see how far he'd let me push him.

"Okay. Clearly, I have lots to learn," Edward agreed, smiling. "Can you teach me this thing?"

"You mean you want me to be your personal instructor?"

"Exactly."

I deliberated for a quick moment.

"My time is money, sir," I informed him. Because I could tease him and he was still letting me.

"Well, don't you owe me some?" Edward wiggled his brows. "It was _your_ idea."

That was true.

"Alright. Deal. This is going to be my payment number one. Twenty?" There was no way I would offer more than twenty dollars at one time. Just like Edward wanted, I was going to make the payments as small as possible without them being embarrassing. I intended to drag this thing as long as I could.

"Sure, twenty works." Of course Edward didn't argue; it didn't seem that he was even thinking about money when he answered. Instead, he was intently staring at my mouth when I talked.

I dragged my tongue over my lower lip and pressed my teeth on the corner, watching Edward's reaction, already knowing what kind of effect biting my lip had on him. What could I say, I was excellent at distracting my competition without making a single sound.

Finally, Edward tore his eyes away from my face, muttering something under his breath that closely resembled words "little minx" and "insane".

He was so going to lose.

I stepped closer to him, motioning that I wanted to take his hand. Being a good little instructor, I wanted to show him how to deliver a proper throw.

Edward wasn't too keen with the idea. "You stay where you are and demonstrate."

Edward wanted a demonstration? But of course I could do that! I could turn it into a full-on exhibition for my student, if he wanted so.

"Sure thing, my dear pupil," I agreed easily. I turned away from Edward, pretending to scan for another stone, even though there were plenty at his feet. Once I found what I thought would be perfect, I bent over, taking a second too long to pick it up.

Judging by the soft grunt from Edward, my presentation was moving in the right direction.

"Found it!" I waved with the stone in my hand and straightened up. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I smiled at Edward wickedly and started stretching. First my arms, bending them behind my head and pushing my chest forward a little. I silently praised myself for earlier decision to wear that navy blue push-up, because if anything else failed, my confidence was definitely through the roof at the moment. Then, I moved on to the exercise of rotating my torso from side to side. Admittedly, what I was doing was impossibly bold for me. Being here with Edward, seeing his reaction to my every move made me feel as if a casing of spun cocoon was finally peeling off of me and I was slowly coming out of my shell. I didn't know if I had wings yet, but next to Edward I certainly felt like I was capable of flying.

When I started stretching my back while bending my torso forward, Edward interrupted me. "Uh, Bella?"

"Yes?" I fluttered my lashes at him innocently.

"Uh. That's enough right there. I think I got a pretty good idea." Edward looked positively flustered by my thorough demonstration. "Just show me how you... uh... throw."

"Oh sure," I replied sweetly. "Can you please hold this?" I handed him my stone.

He took it reluctantly, eyeing me in suspicion, and he was right to be worried, because I wasn't done taunting him.

With my hands free, I lifted my hair up and twisted it into a sloppy bun on the back of my head. I looked at Edward from under my elbow, smiling, and lowered my hands to my sides knowing what was going to happen next—the bun wouldn't stay in place for more than a few seconds. I turned my head from side to side and let my hair tumble down, feeling it softly brushing over my arms.

Edward stood unmoved, dazed.

"Edward, my stone, please." I gestured for him to give it back to me.

"I... I'll just throw it." He snapped out if his trance. "I got it: speed, spin, perfectly round. Twenty for twenty." He was talking nonsense.

"Go for it!" I beckoned, trying hard not to laugh. "Since you got it."

Before I could blink, the stone flew from Edward's hand, wiggling, and plopped into the water with a sound splash.

"Yay, Edward! Woot, woot!" I cheered loudly, cracking up. "Give me an 'L'! Give me an 'O'! Give me an 'S'!" Flailing my hands, I started spelling one word that I was sure Edward would not want to hear.

Of course, he didn't let me finish. "Not fair, Bella!" he protested. "It slipped! It doesn't count!"

"Damn straight it does!" I laughed. "The count is a big fat zero, and you wasted a perfect stone."

"You are not a very good teacher," Edward murmured and sniffed. He was such a bad actor.

"You got what you paid for. If you'd like a better lesson, we have to up the payment."

If Edward said yes, it would be a very bad sign.

"No." He flashed a worried glance at me, causing my heart to dance in my chest in relief.

I smiled. So the condition stayed in place to the satisfaction of both parties.

"Would you like to try again?" I bent down to pick up another stone at Edward's feet.

"Uh, no." He rushed to stop me by my shoulder. "I think we both already know that I'm lacking natural abilities for stone-skipping."

I went to sit back down on the log, and waited for Edward to join me, which he did. And this time there was almost no space between us. He positioned his leg in such way that our feet were touching. Why didn't I think before about taking our shoes off? Though the shore was covered in pebbles, technically, it could be considered a beach, and beaches were designed for barefoot walking, right?

I sighed.

"I'm sure you're good at something, Edward."

_That's right, at dazzling me! All the time..._

"There are a few things," he agreed, looking all cocky, as if he was aware of my inner musings.

"Like what?" I didn't mind if he clarified.

"I'll show you sometime."

I groaned. "Seriously? _Sometime_?" I officially despised anything that started with a word "some".

"Bella, you already know enough about me." His eyes grew serious.

"Like what?"

He thought for a second, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "How about you think about it and tell me yourself," he suggested.

"Is this another game of sorts?" I asked, seeing clearly what Edward was trying to do. He was a master of deception.

"Of sorts." He smiled, waiting for me to decide.

"Okay." I drew a deep breath, trying to put together everything I'd heard and seen that concerned my big crush.

I thought back to our encounter at the book store this week. "You love books and music." That one was obvious. I glanced at him and he smiled approvingly, so I continued, "You used to play piano and you loved to compose, though you haven't done it in a long time."

He pressed his lips together and tilted his head in a half a nod. He seemed a little less enthusiastic than before.

"You have a rare bike you love so much that you'd go to great length to preserve it." The smile was back on his face. _Thank you. _"I like it a lot, too, and I want to ride it," I added. It wasn't against the rules to share a little bit about myself as well, was it?

"You will." The promise made in husky voice coated my brain clouding my vision.

Bike, wind, musky smell of Edward's jacket.

_Must. Think. Clearly._

"Give me more, Bella." That husky voice again. I wanted to whimper.

Making an effort to concentrate, I remembered something else from our earlier conversation. "You don't live in Port Angeles," I guessed, though I was fairly certain that it was correct.

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"You said you'll be in Port Angeles today. You wouldn't phrase it that way if you lived here."

"Fair enough," he agreed, but didn't confirm my theory. "More," he demanded again.

"You... You have two siblings. One of them is your sister, Alice." I chanced to check Edward's expression. It was unreadable, and that made me decide not to mention his parents. Should I keep going?

"Is that all?"

No, I had more. "You smoke. And you like mint tea."

"Perceptive." Edward chuckled. "But 'like' is a strong word when it comes to me and mint tea."

"Well, unless you tell me otherwise, I'll just keep guessing."

"I don't mind. You're doing good," he encouraged me. "Got any more?"

"I think so."

"And?"

I thought of something else. "You seem to be okay with texting, in spite your geriatric age and evident despising of technology. Yet, you absolutely suck at such rudimentary activity as stone-skipping."

"Ouch, my pride!" Edward clutched at his chest, laughing. The contagious sound of it made me smile wide too. His body shook and his knee hit mine, causing me discomfort. Without thinking, I grabbed it to still the movement. My fingers slipped between the open edges of the rip in his jeans. The contact with Edward's exposed skin was similar to an explosion. I gasped, stunned by the debilitating sensation that traveled from the tips of my fingers straight to my core. It felt like there was a wire that ignited and burnt through me.

Edward froze, his laughter died down, and I started unwillingly, slowly removing my hand, dragging it across his knee, feeling as if I was leaving a blazing trail were my fingers touched it.

"Bella." Edward's voice was a groan.

The game was over, that much I already knew.

Without exactly moving from each other, somehow, our contact was broken and we weren't touching anymore. The distance between us was too wide and it felt wrong.

"Ask me what I'm thinking right now," I said quietly.

The game was over, and I wanted answers.

I was ready to confront him, to ask him to stop handling me with kid gloves. If he liked me, then we had to be equal. I was a big girl and could take whatever truth Edward had to share. _If _he finally decided to do it.

Edward's eyes searched my face. He was silent. Maybe this time he didn't have trouble reading my thoughts. Maybe my determination was so obvious that it wasn't a question to him anymore.

I didn't care.

"Ask me."

He parted his lips with what seemed like a great effort. "What are you thinking, Bella?" The rasp in his voice made it sound rough.

"I won't be seventeen forever, if that's what you're worried about." I immediately hated how it came out—as if I was offering myself to him as soon as I would turn eighteen, although that wasn't at all what I meant.

But what did I mean?

I was so confused.

"Oh god," I groaned quietly in embarrassment and dropped my head to my knees.

"I _am_ worried about it, Bella, it's true," I heard Edward admit softly. I lifted my head to look at him through the curtain of my hair. "But that's not just it," he added.

My heart was instantly in pieces. All this time I was right—Edward wasn't really interested in me in the way I hoped.

"So, if I were older, it wouldn't change anything between us?" It was pathetic how shameless I felt, practically throwing myself at him.

The apologizing look in his dark, sad eyes told me everything, but he still spoke up, "It would probably change very little."

"Right," I whispered.

Edward liked me, but didn't like me enough.

What was I supposed to do now? I closed my eyes, willing everything around me to disappear. I wanted to be alone.

I felt Edward's fingers graze against my cheek, gently removing my hair away. "Let me see your face," he murmured.

"Why?" I couldn't understand why he needed to torture me more.

"Because I can't stand not to."

The pieces that were my mangled heart fluttered, gingerly spreading hope through my body. "I don't understand."

He didn't answer.

"Will I see you again?" It was not very lady-like to ask a guy if there would be another date—or whatever it was we were on today—but I couldn't help it.

He got up and offered me his hand. Was it time? I looked at him, not moving, because he still didn't answer my question.

"You will," he promised, and squeezed my fingers when I finally placed them on top of his palm.

That was all the assurance I needed at that moment; I was alive again. It didn't matter to me _what_ we were, and I was trying to tell myself that it didn't matter for how long it lasted.

The worry nudged inside me, warning me that Edward would probably move on quickly enough for one reason or another. But for now, as his hand securely encased mine, I made a resolution with myself that I'd just have to work on making my heart stronger to prepare myself for the time when Edward would be gone.

xxx

On our way back from the shore, Edward started teasing me, saying that I would be lost if he wasn't my guide through the woods. "Next time you should take the breadcrumbs from the coffee place and leave a trail behind you," he suggested.

"Call me Gretel," I offered bashfully, pulling at both sides of my khakis and bowing in a quick curtsy.

"And who am I then? Hansel?"

"Sure. That might be your middle name for all I know." The truth was I didn't even know Edward's last name, but I was okay with that, because he didn't know mine either.

"Oh please, no," he protested in a mock groan.

"Why not? Edward. Hansel." I emphasized each name by pointing into the air above my head. "Sounds pretty unique to me."

"Well, if you put it _that_ way," he relented.

We laughed all the way to my truck, giving each other names of different fictional characters; our heavy conversation was seemingly forgotten.

I was only a few steps from the truck, when I heard a beep of a car unlocking. Turning to the sound I found Edward with a car remote in his outstretched hand.

"Looks like we're right next to each other." Edward motioned to a sleek silver car parked behind my Chevy.

_Oh, that explains the lack of his biker attire today._

"Did something happen to your Harley?" I was genuinely concerned about that bad boy, because I had plans that involved it being in working condition.

"Oh, no, it's perfectly fine. I had something to pick up today—" The pause Edward made before continuing was insignificant, but I noticed. "I needed to use the trunk."

"It's nice." I admired the shiny curves of his pretty automobile that were contrasting with the rusty angular lines of my old beast. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I leaned to the passenger window of Edward's car and looked through the tinted glass, dying to know what it was like inside. I couldn't see much—black leather seats, aviator sun glasses on the dash, and a strangely looking radio console—there was something wrong with it.

"Edward?" I turned to him, biting my lip. "I think someone broke into your car."

"What?" He swiftly opened the door, inspecting inside. Looking over his shoulder, I could see that something was definitely not right with his radio. It appeared seriously damaged, as if someone used a hammer on it.

"I'm so sorry!" I touched his shoulder.

"Oh, no, Bella, don't worry, it's fine," he tried to reassure me.

"That doesn't look like fine to me," I objected. Stretching up on my toes I peeked over him again.

Edward pushed the door closed before I could take another good look. "Nothing to worry about," he repeated and leaned against the car, promptly blocking the view for me.

_Fine. What's another mystery in the book of Edward?_

I probably needed to start a catalog, indeed. I shrugged, letting it go, and then remembered the big news I forgot to share with him.

"Oh, by the way," I prompted and walked to my truck.

"Yeah?" He followed me.

"My interview went well yesterday. I got the job," I told him proudly.

"You did?" He grinned. "That's great!"

"I know." I smiled. "I'll be ready for my next payment in no time." That was the part of the news that was most important.

"There you go, girl, we have the next payment to look forward to."

_Yes, I sure do_.

Edward watched me fumbling with my truck keys for the longest time as I stalled. Was he going to ask me to go out again? It didn't look like it. _But he promised that I will see him!_

I sighed, unlocking the door.

"Bella?" Edward reached for my hand on the handle, stopping me. I turned with a hopeful smile on my face.

"I want to see you again. Soon."

_He asked me! _

The smile on my face grew huge. "Okay."

"When?"

"When I make enough money." I decided to tease him for making me worry about seeing him again.

"How long?" Edward asked, looking a little put off. He was so gullible.

"Couple of weeks." I shrugged. What was I doing? I might have just dug my own grave.

_Two weeks? Am I insane?_

"No. No way." He shook his head. "I can't wait that long."

"You need money sooner?" I continued, because apparently I liked punishing myself. That, and I also loved Edward's reaction.

He turned me to face him. "Silly girl." He smiled tightly and pulled me to him. Shiver ran down my spine as soon as his warm lips touched the top of my head. "Don't you get it yet?" he whispered, his fingers seared my skin on the nape of my neck.

I shook my head.

"I don't give a damn about the money. I'll be anywhere and anytime to see you, no conditions," he said to my ear.

I wished I could reply; instead, I made a half-whimper, half-moan sound and Edward let me go. I felt feverish, intoxicated, there wasn't one straight thought in my foggy mind at that moment.

"I'd like to call you later tonight. Please?" With those words Edward took my hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the tips of my fingers once, twice.

I nodded and leaned on the side of the truck, no longer trusting my knees to support me.

"Promise to text me when you get home," he asked, not taking my hand away from his moving lips. "Don't make me worry."

"I promise," I croaked, smiling a delirious, happy smile.

With one last kiss, Edward let go of my hand and opened the truck's door, waiting for me to get in. I climbed inside rather ungracefully, and if I didn't feel like I was out of it already, I could have sworn that he lightly cupped my butt to help me up. But when I turned to look at him, all I saw was him standing perfectly still with both hands at his sides, watching me protectively.

He didn't wait for me to fire my engine and leave. He jumped into his car and peeled out of the parking first, and I watched him drive away and disappear in traffic.

I was in no condition to drive. For a while. I had to take many, many moments to work on evening my breathing and refocusing my blurry vision before I could even think about driving.

Once I was able to see straight again, I slowly took off from the parking space.

My phone beeped in my bag. With my hand still unsteady and heart thrumming, I searched through the pockets, knowing that there weren't a lot of people who I could expect a call from.

I looked at the message that lit up on the screen, reading it over and over again. The text was short and it said,

**_My middle name is Anthony -E_**

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**A/N: Anyone here good at stone-skipping? Raise your hand. :)**

**Are you still worried about Bella recognizing the Volvo? You should be. Our Bankward Anthony is definitely in trouble. Stay tuned.**

**Thank you for reading. **


	17. Chapter 15 Midas Touch

**A/N: Thank you for continuing supporting my story, you're incredible. My gratitude goes to those who find a moment and leave me a review. You keep me going, guys.**

**My betas twitchling and saluki168, as always you rock. Rags88, thank you, baby, for pre-reading for me.**

**As usual, the information on how to find me is on my profile, including the link to the topic created for Sinnerman on Twilighted forum.**

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**Do you want a good read? Check "Little Fish, Big Fish" by ****Paige Parkker and Michelle M. Marie, ffnet ID: 5472890**

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**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

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**Chapter 15**

**Midas Touch**

_**?POV**_

_**2 years and 4 months earlier  
**_  
_He won't call, give it up, you're pathetic. How can you miss someone who was so cruel and cared so little about you? Kill him, squash him in your thoughts, he doesn't exist.  
_  
It was hard. We spent two years together, and the majority of that time was not bad. Of course, now that I was looking back, I could see that it wasn't exactly good either, including the painful fact that he had chosen the worst time to leave me. The reasons were so hideous that even I, blinded by the pure adoration I had felt for him, couldn't deny it—he ran at the first sign of serious problems in my life. He broke up with me just when I needed him the most.

James was my first everything—first kiss, first real boyfriend, first love. Apparently, that love was very much one-sided, because, as I discovered, James was just killing time with me. As soon as I had stopped being the most entertaining, attentive girlfriend, he'd moved on to better, greater things.

It was the last hour before closing at the shop, and the place was practically dead, which wasn't helping my dreary mood. I was ready to go outside with the big sign on my chest stating, "Get your asses in here; we have nice things to sell!" My brain begged for a distraction, I was so sick of thinking about James all the time. And my feet hurt. Not only my feet—my whole body was tired, and it seemed like I ached everywhere at the same time. The dull feeling that consumed me inside and out was wearing on me, and as I stood behind the glass-on-maple counter at the front of the store, all I wanted was either for this day to be over or to be blessed with one customer to drive me away from my miserable thoughts. Besides, the whole point of me being here was to make a commission. I needed that commission.

I pulled out my phone from the drawer under the counter and, with a loud sigh, started scrolling through my contacts. I'd have to make a lot of calls tonight, which I had to do on my own time no less, to tell my clientele that the store had just received a new shipment of outfits in the latest designs. I'd make appointments; the people would come, and with that so would the money. But today was wasted. Without a commission, the pay I was getting from working part-time here was just a drop in the bucket compared to how much I needed.

With sadness and for the umpteenth time in the past few months, I was thinking that I would probably never graduate from college. It wasn't about the lack of tuition money, because there was financial aid for that. It was about the fact that I should be _making_ the money—and a lot more than I was currently earning—instead of spending it, even if it was for such an important cause as my education. The day was coming when I would have to face the reality that I had to quit school and take a job that would help me to stop being a burden on my family. The opportunity was right there—the owner of the store had asked me if I wanted to work there full-time. It was like all signs were there for me to take that step. Like someone was whispering in my ear, "Take it, take it. Make yourself useful already."

Making decisions, especially one such as this, was hard for me. It seemed so permanent, so irreversible. I was afraid that once I gave up on college, I would never get to experience it again. It would be just like everything else in my life— once things were gone, they were gone forever. Gone like my mom. Or my home. Or James.

I sniffed, thinking that it would be so much easier to decide if he was with me. I loved sharing my every single thought with him, even when I knew that he didn't pay attention to half of what I was saying. I was used to it. He called me a _babble-head_, and I loved it. I was _his_ babble-head.

Was I surprised three months ago when he didn't want to kiss my lips as I stretched up on my toes, offering myself to him? I wished I could say that I was, but in reality I already knew that something had been up for a while. I had too much going on, and in my overwhelmed state I chose to believe that he was telling me the truth when he kept answering my questions with, "I'm just tired" and "I've got test to prepare for". So did I, but didn't I always have the time to make James happy?

James was very clever. He chose the library to tell me that we were over. I couldn't cry, ask questions, or drag myself after him. He chose the perfect place to avoid a scene. Even after having the premonition that it was coming, I was so stunned that I probably wouldn't have made one anyway.

"Baby, you've got too much going on at home. And I'm not going to lie, I have no idea how to deal with it. Besides, you need to study, and with the little time you've got lately, spending time with me doesn't help you. So, you see, I'm doing you a favor. Don't cry, baby girl, it's for the best." The touch of the pad of his thumb wasn't soothing. I remembered that it was rough and scratched the sensitive skin under my eye, and I flinched, still begging him wordlessly not to make that mistake.

But he was over me already. He got up from our table and winked. _Winked, _while my hands and lips trembled, betraying my effort to stay composed. James calculated his exit from our relationship perfectly. He had left quietly, stepping softly over the library's creaking floor. All I could do was watch him leave the place where we used to spend hours together, studying head to head, stealing glances at each other and touching hands. The place where silence was a hard enforced rule and I could do nothing about stopping the person I loved from walking away from me.

James took the coward's way out and it was supposed to be _for the best_.

_Argh, stupid heels!  
_  
How many times had I told myself that I needed to start carrying walking shoes with me, so I could change from my "uniform" heels and comfortably do my chores after work? But no, walking shoes were _beneath_ me and would have clashed with my pinup couture style. So, I was paying for my pride, and the blister that was growing bigger with each step was a painful reminder about my priorities in life.

I always got them wrong. Not that I didn't know that my number one priority was to take care of myself, so I wouldn't skip a day of school or work. I saw it to be especially important while I worked very hard at keeping my depression on the down low, because my brothers had enough to deal with without throwing another curve ball in the form of moody me. My last bout started with James' departure, and I had fought it ever since, trying to deal with it quietly on my own. There were days when I felt somewhat normal, but most of the time I had it really bad and didn't feel like myself.

I couldn't concentrate; I was being forgetful, and sometimes I felt like the world was spinning real fast around me while I was stuck in a kind of a "slow motion" mode. I was constantly tired; if I could I would have slept for days, weeks. I would have if I didn't have responsibilities that made me drag myself out of bed each morning, helping me to keep pushing my feet one in front of the other.

Come to think of it, if I didn't quit school myself, I'd probably flunk my classes this semester anyway. Might as well spare myself the embarrassment and take that full-time job. I would hate being on my feet all day long; but it was a small price to pay for the benefits I would be getting. It would provide a necessary daily distraction, wouldn't require a lot of concentration, unlike at school, and would allow me to bring home a steady and much needed income.  
_See, you don't need James to make the decisions. You are capable of doing it yourself. Remember the song mom always sang? "Don't worry, be happy…"  
_  
I wanted to be happy. I just didn't know if it was possible for me anymore.

Dead on my feet, I limped from the store to the bank that was a few blocks away, not sure if I would make it without going barefoot.

_Barefoot on the sidewalk, after it rained, great. Just great.  
_  
I couldn't skip my chore today—I needed to deposit my weekly paycheck in my bank account. Honestly, I dreaded the moment and hated printing out the receipt upon finishing my banking transactions. The amount of money I had in the account was so ridiculously low, anyone would be down at a single glance, and most depressing of all, we had to survive on it.

_This blister will kill me.  
_  
I was practically dragging my left foot while walking down the street. The ATM machine was already in my view, but the shoes were so uncomfortable that I had to stop and adjust the back and wiggle my numb toes. With a groan, I thought about how I still had to make my way to my car after I was done at the bank.

"Hey!" I yelled when someone jerked me by my shoulder. The strap of my purse scraped down my arm, and I felt it being pulled forward with force. The burn slashed across the side of my wrist and before I knew it, I saw a man whizzing away from me down the street. With my purse in his hand…

My paycheck. My credit card. My driver's license. Mom's picture with me on her lap.

Everything was in that purse.

With a start, and forgetting about the blister, I sprinted myself into a run.

"Stop that man! He stole my purse! Hey! Please! Help me! Stop him! Pleeeese!"

I kept screaming, but my lungs didn't cooperate, needing air to supply the blood that was furiously pumping into my heart. My feet hurt, slowing me down, and to my horror no one even tried to stop the thief, who was running away, widening the distance between us with every second. No one gave the slightest damn about my pleading cries.

I made one last effort and pushed my body forward. My foot twisted over a bump on the pavement under me; I heard the sickening sound of a crack, and the pain in my ankle burst into a myriad of sharp daggers that spurred through my leg, into my hip, and straight to my brain.

I felt my eyes bulging, but I couldn't see anything, blind from the unbearably intense pain in my foot. I shrieked, trying to hold on to something, anything, already knowing that it was useless. There was no one to catch me.

The ground wasn't forgiving. My ass wasn't cushioned enough either. I fell on it with my right leg under me. I felt my knee twisting unnaturally and it was only on instinct that I turned myself at the last possible moment and rolled to the side, probably saving my knee from injury as well.

The pain wasn't just blinding, it was suffocating, multiplied by the knowledge that some cruel man just got away with everything that mattered to me. Because, while I could replace my credit card and driver's license, I couldn't ever replicate that one picture of my mom.

I tried and failed in my attempt to muffle my cries. An elderly woman stopped next to me and asked me something. Her face looked crooked through my pain distorted vision, and her voice sounded as if I was under water—low and gargling. In response, I started to weep, not able to help it anymore. I sat on that busy Seattle street and wept, mourning everything that I had recently lost—love, money, dignity and the picture of my dear mom.

xxx

I felt myself being lifted. I was pretty sure that I was in the air, pulled by someone who, I decided, smelled deliciously divine. I could tell, even though my nose was stuffy from crying. My disturbed mind didn't recognize what that scent was; I only cared that, someone next to me, who smelled terribly nice, had taken me in their arms and was cradling me like a baby. Without being able to discern who my carrier was, I simply reached up and hugged that person by the neck, immediately feeling safe. I was almost pacified, which was really strange considering the shock of recent events.

There was a slow rocking and a soothing murmur in my ear, none of which made sense, but the combination of the two helped to assuage my pain. No longer weeping, I had reduced myself to soft cries, pushing my face into someone's hard-muscled shoulder. In no time, the slightly fuzzy texture of the fabric next to my cheek was wet with my tears.

_Is it suede? I probably ruined it.  
_  
The pain throbbed, making it feel like my foot was caught in a trap, but it was becoming bearable. I started taking small, measured breaths through my nose, trying to calm down. It worked. Then came the hiccups.

The rocking motion stopped and I could feel myself being lowered on to something not very comfortable. Reluctantly, I unlocked my hands to release the neck of my helper.

"There you go."

Through the thick haze of my dumbfounded state broke the thought that I wasn't very gratuitous. I hadn't as much as said, "thank you" yet.

"Open your eyes, little lady. It's over. You're gonna be okay." I heard the soothing low voice again, but refused to face its owner and kept my head down. I sniffled and wiped under my nose with the sleeve of my jacket. I was probably covered in snot and looked utterly ridiculous, but I didn't have the strength to worry about it or to clean up. I just wanted to let me be.

_Ugh, I'm pathetic.  
_  
"Look at me, darling." The same calming voice implored more insistently. Someone was tenderly pushing my chin up with warm fingers, while holding my hand and drawing soft circles on the back of it. "No need to cry, I got your purse back."

_What?  
_  
"What?" I rasped; my throat felt raw from screaming and crying. I finally raised my head and cracked my eyes open, at the same time trying to adjust myself on the chair which I was apparently occupying. It was the worst idea, because as soon as my feet pushed against the ground I immediately doubled over from the sharp pain in my ankle. Moaning, I tried to swallow another cry that threatened to start again. It didn't work. New tears spilled over my face.

"Are you in bad pain, sweet thing?"

I nodded while trying to focus on the face of the person who was so gracious with me, who just saved me, really. My heart clenched when my view became clearer; the guy looked a lot like James—light colored eyes, soft locks, bright smile. He wasn't James, though. He didn't leave me helpless to struggle alone, like James had three months ago.

"Where are you hurt?" He cautiously roamed over my body, checking me, starting from my neck, over the arms, down to my hips, and lowering to my knees.

I shook my head when he stopped there. "No, my ankle."

I was able to blink away the tears and look at my feet, and what I saw…

Oh my god, even the view was painful—the patent leather that used to cover the toe of my left shoe was grated as if someone decided to file it away, and the heel on my right shoe was torn away, with the tiny nails sticking out from the sole. The damage on both of them was beyond repair, but worse than that was the look of my ankle—it was swelling fast and a mean bruise was forming on the outer side.

Lithe, strong fingers wrapped around my calf; they felt oddly cold compared to the burning pain in my foot. I hissed from it searing through my body again.

"It might be broken, darling. You need to be checked," he said with a frown on his face.

_Checked, as in at the__ ER?  
_  
Clenching my teeth I shook my head. "No, no. No doctors." I had seen so many of them, had been to different hospitals so many times in the past months, I couldn't stand even the thought of it. The memory of the yucky odor saturating the air of the murky rooms and corridors—the mix of drugs, food and fear—brought the acid taste of bile to my mouth. If I could help it, I would have avoided another visit to the hospital until the day I died.

"Darling, if you're in such pain, you need an x-ray. Allow me to help you."

He sounded like a gentlemen from an old movie.

Why was this stranger being so nice to me?

"You don't have to do this. I just need to get to my car." I could say whatever I wanted. I even tried raising my chin just to show to this stranger, who had no reason to be kind to me, that I would be just fine on my own. But who was I kidding? I couldn't even get up, let alone be able to drive myself anywhere.

"Right," he agreed easily, causing me swallow in disappointment. While waiting for him to leave, I decided to focus on studying my nails, which were bit to the core. My nails were ugly, mangled beyond recognition, but I considered putting my thumb in my mouth and biting on it again. That would help me to kill the time and, hopefully, concentrate on a thought. Any thought to drive me away from this reality.

He rose to his feet. "We need transportation."

_Erm... What? "We"?_

_Did it mean he wasn't leaving yet? Weird.  
_  
With my thumb already between my teeth, I looked up at him, surprised that this stranger with the light-grey eyes, full of curiosity and sympathy, wasn't going anywhere. It looked like he intended to stick around at least for a while. I couldn't fathom why.

His mouth was smiling. He had a beautiful smile. I just stared.

"Do you have a car? I'll drive you."

I really, really didn't want to deal with any healthcare institution, but yes, I had a car, so I silently nodded.

"Good deal," he smiled and took my hand away from my face. "Now tell me, are you gonna be a brave little darling and let the doctors look at you?"

_Brave little darling? Who talks like that?  
_  
I guess I could be that, if I was being asked so nicely. I darted my eyes to his slender hips, swathed in the wrinkled dark jeans with white stitching on the zipper. _Ta-cky._ The buckle of his belt was right in my face; I fixed my gaze on the intricate design of the letter "P" engraved on silver brass. I could tell that it was made as an afterthought. Was there any meaning to that letter?

I saw his middle finger with a dark yellow stain next to the nail tap against the his jean pocket and heard a chuckle. That motion, together with the sound, effectively pulled me from my stare. The stain on his finger was obviously from nicotine caused by excessive smoking_._ Any other time I would probably have just said "eww" and turned away in disgust.

James didn't smoke. He took care of his body. He was smart, funny, and a talented artist. He was perfect.

_James left me at one of the lowest points of my life.  
_  
Apparently the smell of smoke wasn't as bad as I always thought, because didn't I find this guy smelling _deliciously divine_ not that long ago? Did that mean I actually _liked_ the smell of nicotine?

_I was in a state of shock and not thinking clearly, _I silently defended myself to myself. _And now I was?  
_  
"All right, missy. I can see that your ankle is getting worse by the minute, let's get you out of here."

I didn't even know where that "here" was. A post office? I also decided that it didn't matter, as I watched the hero who saved my day lower himself to my feet and proceed to carefully remove my shoes. He was especially gentle with the one on my hurt foot. I clutched to his shoulder and bit down a moan, not letting it escape my lips.

I was a _brave little darling_, after all.

"Oh, look at that. Your shoes are ruined, so sorry." He held them in both hands with an apologetic look on his face. "You probably paid a shitload of money for this pair. Want to keep them?"

I pursed my lips and shrugged dejectedly. I could have shared that I found them dirt-cheap while scouring my favorite consignment store last week, but then I figured that that little detail might be a little too much. Who knew how he felt about second-hand clothing. I knew _my_ feelings on the subject, but I didn't have a lot of choices. It had always been between either Target or, _gasp_, Ross, or those little, smelly stores I hunted at here and there which occasionally allowed me to score amazing finds for virtually nothing.

Still, I sighed seeing how he got rid of my pumps by shoving them under the bench behind me; I really did like them.

"Thank you for helping me," I finally voiced my gratitude. "It really does hurt," I admitted then in a broken whisper, feeling the need to share and not sure anymore if I was talking about my ankle or something else entirely.

"Raise your hand, darling," he answered softly, without addressing my confession. I obediently did and felt the strap of my purse slide over my head and behind my back. My little purse with, hopefully, all my belongings intact was tucked under my arm with the strap securely wrapped at my neck and over my chest. I guess that would be my new fashion statement, no one could snatch it from me that way. "Done. Ready?"

"I think so," I mused hesitantly. I was seriously dreading the moment of getting up and moving.

"You know what?" he said, first noticing my hands twitching on my lap and then gazing at my sour expression. "If you tell me where your car is, I'll go get it. I'll park it at the front and come for you," he offered.

I liked that idea a lot. Pulling my purse to my chest I fished for the car keys. A warning suddenly flew through my mind, "_What are you doing, giving away your keys to a stranger? You don't know him._"

I didn't. What I knew was that he could have kept the entire content of my purse if he wanted to, but he brought it back to me.

An understanding flashed across his face, as he realized what I was thinking. His eyes flickered to mine, seeking final approval.

I smiled and handed the keys to him; my open palm met his. "You can't mistake my vehicle. It's an old, bright yellow Beetle. I parked it right across the street from Ohana's, do you know where it is?"

"I sure do," he confirmed, smiling back.

"Thank you," I said again, not believing both my bad and good luck today. "Especially for the purse."

"Don't mention it. When I saw the fucker running right into my arms, I welcomed him." He winked. "Let's just say that he'll have trouble walking for probably longer than you."

I should have been disturbed by that information; instead, I was strangely satisfied. "He deserved it," I said with conviction. If I was able to catch the asshole, my fury would probably not have had a limit either.

He liked it. "I bet you wouldn't mind dishing up some justice by squaring him in the nuts yourself. Want me to help you go back and find him? I have a feeling he didn't move too far."

_The revenge was that swift, huh? Now, that was a little disturbing.  
_  
"I trust that you offered him an appropriate punishment. I'm good now." I assured him, although my ankle disagreed. "But I really wish I could avoid the hospital." I sighed.

He lowered himself to my side, fanning my cheek with his breath, musky and hot. "I bet you can handle it, little darling. I bet you a hundred dollars that you won't even flinch the whole time they're checking you."

"Are you a betting man?" I asked. The answer was irrelevant. I already took this man as exciting and fearless. He was a complete stranger, who didn't spare mercy for a man who hurt a random girl. A girl who meant nothing to him.

"You bet I am," he answered with such a wicked smile on his face that I felt a rush of thrill jolting through my spine.

"What if you lose? A hundred bucks is a lot of money," I teased him.

He twirled the ring of the key chain around his index finger and chuckled. "I don't lose, darling. I know who to bank on." He started moving to the exit door and turned to me. "And if I do lose this time, I bet that you're worth every penny."

With those words he pushed the door open and walked outside. I had no doubt that he'd come back. He had to, because James got it all wrong about me, and this man was right.

* * *

**A/N: I have no doubt you know who these two are. Let me hear it, please.  
**

**Thank you for reading.**


	18. Chapter 16 Ace of Cakes

**A/N: Thank you who reads, puts on alerts, recommends my story. And special thanks for your time when you find a moment to review. That makes me beyond happy and very grateful.**

**I know the story is still in pieces, give it a little time. **

**Saluki168 and twitchling - aside from being my awesome betas, you're also my rock. Thank you for your support! Rags88, baby, thank you for pre-reading. (eye cap? hehe)**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

_I looked at the message that lit up on the screen, reading it over and over again. The text was short and it said,_

_**My middle name is Anthony –E**_

xxx

**Chapter 16**

**Ace of Cakes**

_**BPOV**_

I didn't wait long, as soon as I parked on the driveway at my house, I pulled the phone out.

_**Soooo, not Hansel? –B**_

_**Nope –E**_

_**Too bad, I was kind of getting attached to it. Anthony is pretty too, kinda old-fashioned. I'm home -B**_

_**Good. Did you just call me pretty? –E**_

_**Haha. You wish –B**_

_**I really don't. I'd rather settle for old-fashioned –E**_

_***snort* –B**_

xxx

I was still in sort of a delirious state during dinner, and the hazy feeling of elation didn't go away even when Charlie wanted to know how I had spent my day.

"It was good. I've got another book and relaxed by the bay." I tried to shrug casually while carefully avoiding Charlie's scrutinizing gaze. If he asked for the details, I'd be in big trouble; I didn't want to lie to him nor could I tell him the whole truth.

"Don't you still have a paper to turn in?" Apparently, my father paid attention, even if I didn't think he was listening at the time.

"Mhmm," I mumbled noncommittally and opened the fridge. Nothing looked appealing in there.

"I'm sure you know your priorities."

I did, of course I did. I nodded furiously.

"I know you're doing great, kiddo," he added with a proud smile.

"I try." I smiled back.

xxx

I showered, taking my time to wash off the dust from my walk with Edward this afternoon. After drying off, I walked into my bedroom and started brushing my hair in front of the closet mirror, thinking that all I had been doing lately was waiting for one event or another that would lead me to Edward.

I wished I knew where he lived. I could visit him. Meet his family. Get to know him better.

Just listen to me: me, Bella Swan—thinking about stalking a guy. Was I crazy? Maybe I was, since I was seriously considering stalking somebody and even fantasized about meeting his family. Yep, crazy for sure, absolutely unwell.

I blew a deep breath and looked around my room, then at my desk where the monitor blinked in reminder. "Hello, Bella. Your paper, your priorities, remember?"

Yeah, yeah, how could I forget. This year couldn't be over soon enough.

And then what, a whole summer of nothing?

But what about Edward? Edward, who I knew practically nothing about and yet, couldn't get out of my mind, that Edward?

Jesus, what was happening to me? My thoughts were getting out of control.

I sat down on the chair and tapped my chin with my thumb. I needed something… I felt like… Sugar! Lots and lots of sugar could help me not only survive this day, but also get enough energy for the paper.

Yes, I could bake something very, very sweet. Which meant going out for shopping. Getting out of here at least for a bit was a great idea.

I glanced down—I was still undressed after my shower, with the towel wrapped around me. My clothes were scattered on my bed, and I grabbed the items readily available and pulled them on. Plain white panties and bra set, the camisole I had on earlier today, the zipper hoodie and the velvet Juicy pants. The infamous lavender pants Edward had given me, which I planned to eventually pay for with my hard-earned money. Hard to believe, but these pants became my instant favorite, despite the color and the tacky golden letters on the back.

"Dad, going to the grocery store," I told Charlie downstairs, pushed my feet into my Converse, and left the house without waiting for his response. So what if we'd recently restocked the kitchen with fresh produce. None of what we had was suitable for my baking needs.

Regardless, if I wanted to get out of the house, why would I need a reason or excuse? I was not a prisoner. Case in point, I was out, sitting in my truck, not exactly sure what I was going to do next.

I ended up driving to the grocery store since I decided on making Tiramisu cake from scratch. This fancy concoction required Mascarpone cheese, ladyfingers, rum, and cocoa powder—most of these ingredients could be a challenge to find in Forks. Well, more power to me to keep myself busy. I was determined to drive around and visit all three main stores, if I had to, in order to find what I needed.

I was standing at the "Baking Goods" section of the supermarket and considering my measly choices of chocolate powder when my phone went off.

"Bella?" Charlie's voice was thick with worry. "Where are you, honey? You kind of took off without any explanation."

I groaned.

"Dad, I thought you heard me. I said I was going to the grocery store."

"Really? But we had just shopped yesterday."

See? I knew what he was going to say!

"I feel like baking today, so I need more… stuff," I argued.

I spotted a box of "Hershey's Cocoa" on the shelf. It mostly consisted of sugar, acid and "other artificial flavors". It was a sad, sad world I lived in—it looked like my Tiramisu would end up tasting fabulously fake. Not that Charlie would care anyway. With a sigh, I placed the box in my shopping basket and walked to the next aisle to look for "Ladyfingers" biscuits. I checked the list with ingredients again. Oh crap, why didn't I think of it before—I couldn't buy rum. Not for another three years and three months…

"Khmm," my father cleared his throat, which reminded me I was still on the phone with him. "You could've told me what you wanted, Bells, I would've gone for you. I thought you needed to study."

I briefly wondered how Charlie would react to my request to buy an alcoholic beverage if I would have given him the list of the items I needed for the cake. He would probably lock me in the house and make me go through random drug tests until I turned twenty-one.

I sighed again; it looked like my cake would be rum-less too. _Wonderful._

"Not study," I corrected him. "It's just a paper, dad. I'll work on it tonight."

"Bella, I know you're tired. Are you sure you want more work for yourself tonight, kiddo?"

No, I wasn't, but I had to come up with something to do, something brainless but laborious. Anything that would keep me from sitting in my room and wallowing over the fact that I had a huge crush on a guy who I barely knew, yet a single thought of him could make my head spin and my insides turn jelly-soft and wobbly.

Why didn't I ask Edward where he lived?

I had to stop the insanity. He had promised to call, and so far he hadn't broken his promise to me_._

I perked up because that thought was a much needed positive reinforcement. I was a big fan of those.

"Dad, no worries, I found everything I need. I'll be home in a few."

He grunted in response, and I hung up.

"Hello, dear," I was greeted by the elderly woman behind the counter at the express check-out. "Find everything you need?"

I smiled while grabbing the first item from the basket and opened my mouth to answer when my phone went off again. _Ugh, really, Dad? _I dropped everything back into the basket.

"Dad, I told you…" I said into the phone with agitation.

"Hello, Gretel."

Shit. That was _not _my dad. So, so far from it.

My mood picked up substantially, and my heart jumped up in my chest and swelled somewhere around my throat. I tried to ignore that by quickly providing a far too cocky response, "Hi, pretty."

How was that for a nice recovery from my previous faux pas greeting? Yep, I was brilliant like that.

"Oh no, you didn't," he gasped with fake horror.

"Oh, I so did," I assured him, laughing. "Whatcha gonna do?" I challenged. Teasing always worked for us well, did it not?

"There will be some sort of punishment, for sure," Edward said with a deliberate pensiveness in his voice.

_Punishment? _My mind began reeling. Why was I excited at the thought?

Felling a wide smile splitting my face, I hunched away from the counter and said in low my voice "Like what? Spanking?" I was pushing it again; where was that coming from?

I imagined Edward's hand on me…

Even if I was pushing it, I couldn't feel particularly regretful as I heard Edward groan on the other end. "Jesus, Bella, you can't say things like that to me."

"Why not?" I asked in a raspy whisper. The grit in his voice was doing funny things to my own.

"Because, I…" Edward went silent. It was loaded, heavy with the meaning.

I had to be stripped of all my senses not to hear the sound of Edward's ragged breathing, not to feel the hairs standing up on the back of my arms, not to see how, only seconds into our conversation, I was already under water, sinking, grasping for something to hold on to. I had to remind myself that I was at the store. The lady behind the counter was eyeing me with a little too much prying interest, and I needed to get a grip.

"I was going to make a Tiramisu cake today," I shared, unsuccessfully trying to loosen the tension ringing between us.

"Sounds divine," Edward answered, sounding not too interested in my connoisseur tendencies.

"Not really. I can't even buy the rum for it," I complained, realizing how stupid my idea was to begin with.

"Bella..." He sighed my name in such way that immediately made everything else irrelevant.

I didn't like the sound of it. It made me apprehensive. My heart picked up again. Was Edward going to say something good or was it going to be bad? I was afraid it would be something that would crush me. Like telling me that he had decided I wasn't worth his time—that would definitely crush me. I stared, breathless, at my red plastic basket slowly gliding away from me on the black conveyor belt. The sound of the items being checked out faintly beeped in the background.

"I know it would probably sound crazy," Edward said after a long pause.

A twinge of excitement squeezed my heart. _Crazy could be good._ _I might not mind crazy._

I snapped out of my frozen stance and reached for the basket again. "Lay it on me," I offered, hopeful.

"You might hate the idea," he said quietly.

"Oh."

"But here it goes," he said, once again getting my full attention, and I held my breath. _Yes? _"I'm minutes away from Forks. Is it possible for you to see me again today?"

"Oh!" I repeated louder, swallowing hard_. _He _was _crazy_._ Hate the idea? Did he really think I would turn him down? _Silly Edward._I looked at the clock on my phone: six forty-two.

"When, where?" That was all I needed to know; Edward didn't have to make his offer twice.

I was moving out of the store before he had a chance to reply. The basket with the half-unloaded ingredients for the Tiramisu was left behind, while the grey-haired woman at the register was still checking them out.

"Young lady," she called out when I was near the exit. "Do you not want your groceries?"

The sliding door opened automatically, inviting me to step out. I waved "no" without looking back. Who cared about some lame desert when I was about to have a much better treat for the evening?

With the phone at my ear, I hastily unlocked my truck and climbed inside. "Where are you right now?"

"Get in your car," he instructed.

"Already in," I answered. "Where to?" I revved the engine.

Edward chuckled. "You're quick."

"I wish." I sighed. My truck wouldn't let me race to the destination, there was no way I could get wherever Edward wanted me to be fast enough.

"Drive out of Forks toward 101 North. I'll pick you up outside the city limits. You'll see me."

I pushed the gas pedal so hard, my poor truck spattered and then rumbled, drawing attention from the people in the parking lot. I could care less about other people. I was too busy counting the minutes until I saw Edward again.

xxx

"Edward?" I asked, seeing that neither of us was hanging up.

"I'm here, sweet girl," he assured in a quiet voice. I heard wind and the steady sound of the engine; he was driving too.

"You didn't hang up," I observed, smiling.

"Neither did you." He chuckled softly back.

"I'm about five minutes away."

I was impatient and couldn't hide it. I had only seen Edward a few hours ago, but it seemed like it'd been forever. I wondered if he was on his bike this time and suspected so by the sound of it on the other end of the line.

"I'm almost there. I'll park where you can see me. Don't rush, I'm here, I'm waiting," he said.

My heart was doing crazy somersaults in my chest. I tried to take a few quiet, deep breaths to calm down. Nothing was working. I felt frenzied, wild from anticipation.

I glanced at myself in the rear-view mirror, afraid to find my hair in a wild mess after the shower. It was already almost dry and curling around my face. I opened the glove compartment, pressing the phone between my ear and shoulder, and patted around until I found a hair tie, since I always had spare ones in there. I switched the phone to speaker and placed it on my lap. Holding the tie between my teeth, I clawed through my hair, trying to smooth it to the back, and pulled it into the high ponytail. My makeup from the morning was completely washed off, and I looked not a day older than fifteen without it. I rolled my eyes at my _"_au naturel," bland look.

The best I could do was to apply lip gloss and pinch my cheeks to bring up some color. Where was my blushing when I needed it? I noted to myself to get into the habit of carrying at least mascara and blush.

Leaving the last houses behind on North Forks Avenue, I took 101, just like Edward instructed. He said _North_, right? Grabbing the phone again, I switched off the speaker. "Edward?"

"There you are," he greeted softly. "I see you. Slow down, girl."

As soon as said that, I spotted him straight ahead. He was parked on the side of the road under the green sign "Thank you for visiting Forks". And as I drove closer, I watched him smile and salute me.

Braking with the screeching sound, I stopped on the shoulder of the road and parked behind Edward. As soon as I jumped out of the truck I froze, entranced. My mismatched outfit, unkempt hair, and lack of makeup didn't matter anymore. My eyes were glued to Edward, and even if Forks was currently being nuked behind me, I couldn't pay attention to anything surrounding me but Edward.

He looked his usual disheveled self—this time in a light blue v-neck t-shirt, accentuating the taut muscles of his biceps and chest. His leather jacket was casually tossed over the seat of the bike, and his helmet hung on the handle bar. Edward was leaning with his back on the bike; his long legs, encased in black jeans, were outstretched and crossed over one another. It was the sexy biker Edward I first met, except there was no darkness clouding his features. His glorious bronze hair shimmered under the evening sun, sticking out in all directions as usual, and his eyes shone brightly. He grinned, beckoning me forward, and it took every ounce of my restraint not to lunge myself at him.

"Hi." I waved feebly instead and drew my lip between my teeth, still gripping the truck's door.

"Hi there," he said huskily and pushed himself off the bike, extending his hand to me. I felt my body move on its own volition. He pulled me forward. Edward's hand moved gently over my shoulder and slipped under my hair to my neck, pressing me to his chest. He dropped his other hand to my lower back and rested it on my hip. I grabbed the sides of his t-shirt, twisting the fabric in my fists while filling my lungs with his unique fragrance—the smell of leather meshed with fresh air, mint, and smoke. Edward kissed the top of my head, while greedily breathing me in, too. We stood like that for a long moment. I could hear his heart pounding—loudly, insistently—in time with my blood whooshing in my ears. I was lost in his scent and in the sounds of our hearts, laced together, and relished in the moment.

"I'm glad you could make it," Edward murmured.

"Me too," I whispered back.

He hummed against my hair; the sound sent the prickles of shiver down my neck and arms, then he shifted slightly back, releasing me. I reluctantly let him go.

"So..." He pursed his lips, looking me over. His eyes twinkled, telling me he had conjured up some up-to-no-good plan, and I knew I was going to like it.

"Yeah?" I smiled.

"Wanna take a ride?" He asked, twisting his lips crookedly, and winked. He reached for the helmet hanging on the handle of the bike.

I squealed. "Really? Right now?"

"Why not?" His smile grew wider. "But we need to get to a more secluded road first." He chuckled, watching me hop excitedly from one foot to another.

"Where are we going?" I eyed the bike impatiently.

"Do you know where Lake Pleasant is? About ten miles from here?"

I had some idea of its location, so I nodded.

"We'll go there." He waved for me to get back into my truck.

Edward waited until I was back inside the cabin before starting his Harley. Smiling, he put his helmet on, adjusted it with both hands, and showed me a thumbs-up. Laughing, I responded by flooring the gas pedal of my Chevy while it was still on park, which made it roar thunderously.

I raised my thumb at him as well. I was ready—for anything.

I followed Edward, who alternated between swerving in wide "eights" across the road while cruising leisurely in front of me, or drove side by side with my truck. With his helmet on, the only open area of Edward's face was his eyes, and I could tell he was smiling every time I looked at him. I opened the window and extended my hand to him; he maneuvered closer to me and wiggled his fingers against mine. A jolt of exultation at Edward's touch pierced through my body. I pushed myself up from my seat and stuck my head out, feeling warm wind caressing my face. I could barely keep myself from letting out a scream of excitement, overwhelmed by the feeling of pure joy cursing through my body.

Edward pushed the helmet down, uncovering his mouth, and said loudly, "We're taking the next exit! Just follow me, okay?"

When I nodded, he leaned forward against the frame of the bike and sped up, leaving a thin trail of smog behind. "Show off," I chuckled.

We drove for another mile or so until Edward turned his head to me and motioned to something further on. I squinted, looking out the window where I could make out a rest stop ahead. He slowed down, indicating he was pulling over, and I did the same.

When we stopped, I got out of my Chevy, and looked around. The place was quiet, secluded, and felt very private.

Edward silenced his Harley and removed his helmet, releasing a shock of his hair, and turned to me with an impossibly huge smile on his face. "This is it. I don't think we'll bother anyone here at this hour."

My heart sped up. For the second time today, Edward and I were completely alone. And maybe because the day was dwindling and it was about to get dark, it felt more intimate here than back in Port Angeles by the waterfront. Did he plan for this to happen? I probably should have felt scared, being here alone with a man I barely knew while absolutely no one had any idea where I was this evening. Not a soul knew. I should've been at least concerned, but I felt nothing but excitement, and I couldn't contain it.

"You really gonna let me ride it?" I asked, walking to Edward briskly.

"If you want to." He nodded but argued, "Not by yourself, and no silly stunts, like letting your hands go or closing your eyes." I was shaking my head furiously in agreement. _I'll totally keep my eyes open. _"Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

"Never," I said with regret. "This is the first time I've even seen a bike up this close," I confessed, stepping closer. I could feel the warmth emanating from its side, but I couldn't tell if the heat was coming from the Harley or from Edward.

"Hey, not so fast." Edward chuckled. "It's my turn to educate you on a subject."

I remembered our stone-skipping lesson and blushed furiously. Edward studied my face, his own expression turned serious. With my hair up I couldn't use it as a shield to hide my flaming cheeks, so I lowered my head and tried to turn away.

"Don't," Edward murmured. I glanced at him sideways, noting his intense gaze. "May I?" He reached to my hair, and it took me a second to understand that he wanted to let it loose.

"Y-yes," I stammered and gulped for air.

"You'll need to use my helmet. The pony tail will be in the way," he explained, moving closer. His body was almost flush against mine as he raised his hands to my face. He brushed his fingers over my forehead and started carefully removing the elastic band of the tie. We didn't breathe. I knew I didn't, feeling like I was in a daze under Edward's hypnotic stare. He was trying to be very gentle, holding the base of my pony tail with the fingers of one hand, while slowly loosening the tie with the other. I felt my hair being freed up from the tight hold. Edward let my curls down and gently massaged my scalp, making me groan quietly with pleasure. His fingers against my skin felt magical.

"Your smell is indescribable, Bella." Edward breathed in, nearly touching my ear with his lips, and I shivered but didn't move away. I was lost and in no hurry to find my way back to reality. It felt too good.

As usual, Edward broke contact first, leaving me gasping. My physical reaction to him had stopped surprising me, still, I felt slightly irritated. He did it every single time—getting very close, riling me up, taking all air out of my lungs and then, just like that, stepping away. I wished I was as strong.

"So, tell me what I need to know," I inquired, trailing my index finger along the wide, black seat of the Harley. It was slick, warm, and had a faint smell of leather polish.

"Let me get the manual," Edward offered, reaching inside his jacket.

I stared at him wide-eyed. "No way."

He laughed. "Gotcha."

I lightly hit his arm. "Stop teasing."

He grabbed my fist and brought it to his lips, smiling. "Oh, I'm just warming up, sweetheart." He kissed my knuckles before releasing my hand.

I flushed, feeling warm myself already.

"Let's see." Edward stepped to the front of the bike. He spread his legs apart and stood in such way that the front wheel of the bike was between them. I watched his every move intently. He crossed his arms on his chest and relaxed his shoulders. Our roles from the early afternoon were reversed, Edward was the teacher and I was his student.

"As a passenger," he said, "you have responsibilities, and there are certain laws in Washington State every motorcyclist must follow."

"Like what?" I asked, trying to stay serious.

"You are required to wear protection gear at all times." Edward nodded at the helmet perched on the seat in front of me.

"So, if there are two people on the bike, both have to have helmet, right?"

"Naturally." Edward smiled.

"Okay. Are there other laws I need to know about?"

"Children under six are not allowed on the bike."

"Would you like to see my birth certificate?" I offered sweetly.

"It's okay," he allowed generously. "But there is also a height rule."

"Meaning?"

"You must be tall enough to be able to reach the footrests when riding."

"Edward, your bike has no footrests for a passenger," I argued.

He shrugged, smiling in mischief. "I didn't create the rules."

"Of course you didn't. You just like to enforce them," I noted.

Edward's expression switched minutely to something almost bitter. "Believe me, Bella, enforcing the law isn't a pastime for me. But I'm trying here. I have to try with you."

I wanted to ask him what he meant. But there was this big, shiny, gorgeous toy calling for me. So, I pushed the thought away for the time being, and, without delay started climbing over the bike. Although it took me almost no effort, Edward instantly was by my side, helping me. And by helping, it meant he placed his hand on the small of my back. I smiled and extended my feet on both sides of the bike, reaching for the footrests. They were too far.

"Oops." I snickered, covering my mouth. "That makes me an outlaw."

Edward rolled his eyes and muttered something, but I decided not to pay attention. Legality didn't matter here, and I wished Edward stopped thinking about the rules all the time. We were on a deserted road, and the bike under me felt so solid, powerful. I trusted that Edward had a lot of experience and would never endanger us.

I bent my knees, looking for some support on the sides of the bike, and finally rested them on the shiny pipes that otherwise were too round and slick to be able to stay comfortable. I leaned forward to study the controls. There were so many things to look at I was instantly preoccupied.

"Edward, what's that?" I asked, pointing to one of the "something-o-meters" on the display.

Edward responded unintelligibly, and I turned to him to see what he was trying to say.

I found that he wasn't trying to talk.

To the contrary, Edward had his mouth closed in a tight line. And his eyes were not directed at where I was pointing. He could clearly care less about the controls of his bike, because he was very busy checking out my butt instead_._

How could I forget the power of the large golden letters? _Hello and thank you!_

My recently discovered sassy side came out to play again. I wiggled on the seat very slightly, trying to perk up my backside ever so subtly.

Judging by Edward's wide eyes, slight wiggling worked its magic. He was ogling my butt, and there was nothing subtle about that.

I loved it. Probably a bit too much.

"Edward," I called gently while smiling big. "The controls," I reminded and waved in the general direction of the handle bars, leaning in yet a little further.

"Bella," he groaned, dragging his eyes to look at my face.

I wanted to ask him if he liked what he saw, but that would be corny. It wasn't me. Even thinking about it made my face warm.

"Yes?" I said instead.

Edward's gaze burned. If glowering meant anything at all, I could safely assume that Edward was livid. Though there was probably nothing safe about that assumption. It looked like I was in big trouble. I wondered how much it would help if, from this moment on, I kept quiet and stopped moving. I tried to do just that. I tried to hold my breath for good measure, too.

My effort fell unappreciated.

"Bella," Edward repeated with warning in his voice. "Please get off the bike."

"Why?" I squeaked. "I'm comfortable." I wasn't comfortable in the slightest, but I'd never admit that. I was too stubborn for that.

"Because," Edward presented a killer argument. I arched my brow at him.

He appeared to be frantically looking for the answer. "Because," he said again. "It's getting cold." His face smoothed into a peaceful expression. He thought he had me.

_Not so fast._

"I'm not cold," I argued petulantly. His answer didn't make any sense, and I really liked it here on the bike. It felt intimidating and empowering at the same time. I could only imagine how much fun it would be to ride it.

"Do you want to ride it today?" Edward asked in a snappy tone, looking more and more aggravated.

"Very much so, but how is it related to being cold?"

He took his jacket off and unfolded it, holding it to me by the shoulders. "Jacket, Bella, then the helmet. And you are riding on the back."

At least he didn't suggest driving me home right away.

"Party pooper," I muttered under my breath.

"What?" Edward narrowed his eyes and brought his face to mine. "Speak up, little girl, if you want to be heard."

_Oh,_ _little girl, again_?

My hands flew to my hips. I leaned closer to his face, so close I could see tiny golden specs in his bright green eyes. It was hard, but I didn't allow myself to get mesmerized; I was on a mission.

"I'll speak up, Edward. Here it is. I'm not a doll, and I'm not made of delicate china. I will tell you when I'm cold, and I will only wear the helmet if _you do_. The rules apply to both of us." I straighten back up. "Are we riding or not?"

I had no idea where my anger came from, and as always, I regretted my outburst right away. He'd probably send me home now; I fully expected him to say so and was afraid to meet his eyes. I felt like the little girl he said I was.

"Oh hell," Edward chuckled.

I chanced to look at him, bemused.

"What now?" I grumbled.

"See, you're mad."

I couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement. I wasn't sure if it was true anymore, either, but I nodded just in case.

"You look furious," Edward said; his eyes turned soft. "And you know what it does to me. I can't argue with you when you look so perfectly fierce."

I couldn't help my smile.

_Note to self: get furious more often._

"Fierce is my middle name," I declared, pulling my brows together and baring my teeth at him.

Edward guffawed. "I thought it was Gretel."

"I have several secret identities. I'm a secret agent...in the witness protection program."

Edward burst into a laugh. "Baby, you need to get your story straight."

"I also have some mad ninja skills," I added another talent to my resume. It didn't escape my notice that he called me "baby". I loved it. "Watch me," I said.

Pretending to make some flourish move, I kicked the air with both hands and feet. It was really dumb of me, because with no purchase to hold on to, I successfully lost my balance and proceeded slowly dropping to the side.

Knowing Edward was next to me, and having no doubt that he would catch me, I relaxed my body and with words, "Mayday, Mayday, ninja is down!" fell right into his protective arms.

Our joined laughter moved in echoing waves around us. I couldn't think of any other single moment of my life that could measure up to how I felt right there, in Edward's cradling embrace. I wished there was some sort of a mental camera in my brain that would allow me to make a film out of this perfect moment. Edward's face—all lit up—was the epitome of joy, and I wanted to capture his brilliant smile and the care-free laugh in my memory.

Edward moved, bringing me back up on the bike by my waist, and I placed my arms on his shoulders, admiring his happy features.

He moved closer, still smiling, which allowed me to lock my hands around his neck.

_Soft. Impossibly silky. _Edward's hair was every girl's envy, including mine. The feel of it under my fingers made my breath hitch. I stilled, unprepared, not believing how close, how intimate our position was. Edward froze, too. His hands gripped my hips firmer. Without thinking, I opened my knees and pressed my fingers on the back of his neck. It wasn't an invitation, it was… I didn't know what it was. I just wanted to be as close to the warmth of Edward's body as possible.

My eyes widened, and I took my lower lip in my mouth with a tiny sucking sound when I felt Edward make a small step forward, his hips touching my thighs. I was scared—scared my inexperience would push Edward away. That he'd laugh at me any moment now and turn it all into a joke. Like we always did—when we were uncomfortable, we joked.

This time Edward didn't. His hand slowly came to my face. His thumb hovered, in hesitation, at my lips. His eyes flew to mine—for approval? Could I move a single muscle to show him how much I craved for him to touch me? Could I move to just nod?

I stared at him, afraid that if I close my eyes just for a moment, this Edward—reverent, adoring, sweeping me off my feet Edward—could disappear like a figment of my imagination. I felt a small, hot tear roll down my cheek. I blamed the dust, and the wind, and the fact that I hadn't blinked in almost forever. Ever since Edward stopped laughing and ever since I had my fingers lost in his bronze, soft hair.

Another abrasive gust of wind blew over us, tousling our hair, bringing mine over both my face and Edward's. My long, tangled locks twisted around, sheltering us from the rest of the world and leaving us in our own, private shell. For a few seconds we were isolated from all sound, all light. All that remained was the smothering feeling of the heavy, airless space vibrating between us. A familiar current of energy zapped through me as Edward's thumb flitted over my open lips, and I heard his sharp intake of breath.

"My lollypop girl," he murmured against my cheek; the meaning of his words escaped me. My mouth moved to ask him, but no words came out. I hummed as Edward's fingers skirted lightly across my skin, swiping away the tear that stopped at my chin.

I licked my lips, tasting the salty moisture on my flesh, and finally opened my eyes. "Edward."

"Shhh." He backed away and stiffened.

"What?" I asked, bewildered.

"Do you hear that?"

We both quieted, listening, although I had no idea to what.

With painful disappointment, I realized that our special moment was gone. I brushed my hand against my forehead to take the hair away from my face.

"Do you hear that?" Edward asked again. I tilted my head and halted, waiting for the indication of the sound that made Edward so apprehensive.

"There," he whispered. He looked at me. His hands retreated back to his sides, and he turned in the direction of my truck. I heard a familiar melodic ringing sound. It was my phone, left on the passenger seat of my Chevy. No surprise we could hear it—I left the window of the truck open and forgot about it.

The ringing stopped and I smiled. "It's just my phone, Edward."

A hollow ache grew in my chest—a result of the abrupt coming down from my Edward-induced high.

The phone started ringing again, and I shifted, noting how Edward froze again. "I'll go get it."

I walked to the truck with my heart pounding uncontrollably. There could be only one person on this planet who'd be calling me so persistently.

Picking up the phone from the passenger seat, I pressed "talk" and sighed into the microphone, "Hello?"

"Isabella Marie Swan, where the hell are you?"

I shuddered under the loud booming voice and almost dropped the phone.

How could I so foolishly forget?

* * *

**A/N: Not hard to guess. And yep, in trouble. Want to see Edward's magnificent Fatboy Softail Harley? Check my profile.**

**I know I drive some of you nuts, tell me how you really feel in your review. :)**

**Thank you for reading and supporting me.**


	19. Chapter 17 Green

**A/N: I have an excuse for the delay in posting. I swear I do, and it's a good one—while on break, Rags88 and I collaborated on the entry for "Beyond the Pale" contest. You know, the taboo one? We wrote "The Loved One", and really tried to push the limits there. So if you are into something slightly kinky, creepy, and dark, check either mine or Rags88's profile for this story. We would appreciate your feedback.**

**I thank you for continuing reading and supporting Sinnerman.**

**My hat's off to my betas saluki168 and twitchling for helping me. They are my constants and my lifeline. Thank you, Philadelphic, my wonderful pre-reader, for your support and the title for this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

xxx

_Removing the phone from the bag, I pressed "talk" and sighed into the microphone, "Hello?"_

"_Isabella Marie Swan, where the hell are you?" The loud voice boomed at me, making me almost drop the phone. I shuddered._

_How could I so foolishly forget?_

_**Chapter 17**_

_**Green**_

xxx

_**BPOV**_

"Dad."

I wasn't going to pretend that I didn't promise him a while ago that I'd be back home _in a few_. I had no idea how much _a while ago_ it had been because I had completely lost track of time while I'd been here with Edward. What kind of excuse could I come up with that would appease my father and at the same time wouldn't be a complete lie?

"I am sorry, dad, I'll be home very soon." That was my honest attempt to speak only the truth.

"That's not what I just asked, Bella," Charlie interrupted me, fuming in loud huffs. "Where are you?"

I looked at Edward through the windshield of my truck. The sun was setting already—a pink, flat disc on the grayish-blue of the cloudy sky above the trees. Edward stood half-turned away from me, one hand was in a pocket, another, shoved into his hair, casting a shadow so I couldn't see his face. I wanted to go back to him, back into that bubble where we were just a few minutes ago—to my oblivious bliss.

"I… I went to the store, and then…" I sighed into the phone. There was absolutely no way I could admit to Charlie that I dumped everything I was doing and drove to the middle of nowhere with a man I barely knew. I couldn't imagine the reaction from my father if he were to find out. Yet, I hated lying to him.

"What's going on, Bella?" Charlie's tone changed; he still sounded angry and worried, but on top of that I heard a hint of anguish. "Are you okay, kid? You aren't… running…" He made a strangled sound without finishing what he was saying.

He didn't have to_. _I understood what he was thinking and it sliced me. Charlie thought I was...

"No way, Dad!" I said. "I am not running away from home. What even gave you that idea?"

"I have no clue what to think. You're clearly keeping something from me."

I didn't answer; I didn't know what to say.

"Is there a boy?" Charlie probed carefully after a pause. "Bella, you can tell me. I need to know what's going on with you, I'm your father."

"No, there is no boy!" I exclaimed, panicking at how close Charlie was with his guess. "I met Jessica… and there was Lauren… when I was at the store, you know? " I said, frantically sawing up a desperate tale, sure that _he'd never believe me_. "So, we kind of started chatting and the time escaped me." I was thankful that Charlie couldn't see how red my face had turned by the time I finished my stammering. I shut my eyes tightly, grimacing at myself, and waited for him to call me out on my blatant lie.

"It's been over an hour, Bells. I don't know what you girls can chat about for so long."

"Um, world peace?" I offered lamely.

"Very funny. Don't be smart with me, young lady. And this is after you've been out pretty much all day today," Charlie said, but I could hear in his voice that my earlier attempt at joking worked, even if only a little. At least he wasn't raising his voice at me anymore. Was the worst over? I couldn't believe he was making it that easy for me, but he seemed to have lost his steam as he chastised me for a little longer about being a responsible adult.

"Do I have to remind you about your paper?" he asked me finally, and I rolled my eyes. Yeah, not _that_ easy, but I guess I deserved pestering for making him worry. "I have my shift starting in less than an hour and want you back home before I leave. Now, Bella!"

I looked at Edward again. He stood with his back to me; his hand was on the handle of the bike. Was he leaving?

"Sure, Dad. I'm sorry," I said again quickly before hanging up.

I took a deep breath and exited from the truck. The conversation with my father wasn't pleasant, but it could have been worse given my flaky behavior today. Edward's back, however, combined with the hunched shoulders and the tension in his entire posture concerned me more, signaling that he was ready to jump on his bike and speed away. He wasn't looking at me, even though I knew he heard my approaching steps.

Was he _mad_ at me? What for? Was I on the phone for too long?

"Um, that was my father calling, no worries," I said, hoping that would mollify him. When he didn't turn to acknowledge me, I panicked. "Edward? What's wrong?"

He twisted around to finally look at me. If I had anything else to say, his heavy gaze made the words stick in my throat. I stumbled one step ahead because even though he looked angry, the gravitational pull he had on me hadn't stopped working—I was still moving to get closer to him.

"Bella." His cold voice finally did the job—I stopped. "Was your father looking for you?"

"Um," I offered convincingly eloquent response.

"He is mad at you, isn't he?" he pressed.

I shrugged without answering. It wasn't his worry. He shook his head and started chewing on his inside of his cheek.

"I got you in trouble, didn't I?" he asked quietly.

Oh, great, he was blaming _himself_ for _my_ irresponsible behavior._  
_

"You should know, my dad's normally pretty reasonable," I defended Charlie. "But I kind of took off without a warning to see you, so he freaked out a little."

I felt like squirming under Edward's intense stare and looked away, turning my eyes to the knuckles of his hand holding the bike's handle bar. The knuckles, which would've been white from the strain of his tight grip, if not for the broken and healing skin covering them. The nature of the damage on his skin suddenly dawned on me. _He'd been in a fight._

"Edward." I reached out to touch his broken skin with an unspoken question.

Seeing my intention, he immediately retrieved his hand and shoved it into his pocket. I dropped my hand at my side.

"Did you tell your father about me?" he asked and dropped his eyes down. My heart clenched when I recognized not only concern, but also a tinge of fear in his voice.

I shook my head. "No."

When he looked back at me and nodded, the relief spread over his features was palpable. I was right not to talk about Edward with anyone. He very clearly didn't want me to. I was glad to see him pleased, and I should have felt good that my instinctual silence was the right decision. But the idealistic teenage girl in me, who had read too many romance novels, was hanging her head in disappointment, stubbornly refusing to accept the fact that my troubles would be nothing compared to the problems I could create for Edward if people around us assumed that we were a couple.

"Bella, I'm sorry, but it would be better if you didn't tell anyone about us," he said, his tone meek. "For your own good," he added.

I nodded.

I tried to keep optimistic about us, despite his words. If we were to work out, the hiding would only be for a few months. When I turned eighteen, no one, not even my father, could tell me who I could date or who I could kiss. A warm wave of longing spread achingly in my belly when I remembered Edward's fingers on my lips and breath near my cheek. He had given me hope this evening that maybe we would share real dates and real kisses in the future and we wouldn't need to worry and hide.

For now, though, I had no choice _but _to hide and worry—especially about what my father thought.

"Edward, I have to go," I reminded him with zero enthusiasm in my voice. "Or I really will get in trouble."

"Bella, I'm very sorry." His eyes flushed with guilt.

"You really shouldn't be," I said, afraid he was going to push me away again.

"I wish you understood how…" He shook his head, sighing, and leveled his eyes with me heavily. "I told you before, I'm not good for you," he said, drawling out every word slowly and watching my reaction as if he expected me turn and run.

I wasn't going to. He must know. "I remember," I said, not lowering my gaze, either. "You keep saying that, but that's not what I see. I don't even think you want me to believe it. So, I wish you would make up your mind and stop confusing me."

"It's… I don't mean…This isn't…" He groaned.

I waited, whatever he had to say, I was ready to hear it.

"I didn't expect _you_ to happen to me," he said finally. His shoulders dropped and he glanced away. "It's only been a few weeks... days. Shit. I fucking don't…" His eyes were on me again, this time the look was softer. "I feel completely unhinged. Cursed one moment. Blessed—another. It's out of control, something I can't afford in my life." He rubbed his mouth and jaw. "Fuck."

"See?" I shook my head. "Confusing. What are you saying, Edward? You don't want this?" I waved my hand between us; my heart started to thrum very fast. If I were a hindrance he should just say it and get it over with.

"We shouldn't even be friends, Bella," he said with a sigh, the words not matching the pleading look on his face. Before I could object or get upset over their harsh meaning, he added softly, "But here I am, not able to stay away from you."

"Then don't." My voice cracked and I pressed my lips together and clasped my hands so I wouldn't stoop so low as to beg and grovel.

"You're forgetting again." A faint smile flitted over his lips. "I'm at the point where I'd do anything, go anywhere, just for a chance to see you. Unfortunately, I create nothing but trouble for you. And believe me when I say that it can't end well."

"I'll be fine," I said quickly in my relief he didn't decide to turn me away again. I chose not to notice the bigger warning in his words. "You worry too much."

His plunged his hand into his hair, and I reached up to grab it. "Please, Edward."

He captured my hand in his and didn't let go. He studied my face for a long moment. "I really don't want to hurt you," he said with a strained smile.

I moved closer. "You won't."

I was convinced of it; how could he not see that I wasn't afraid to be with him, that I trusted him?

He brought his hand to my face; the soft pad of his thumb ghosted over my lower lip, a touch so careful, so light, I wouldn't have believed it was there if not for my wide-open eyes. I tilted my head into his palm, relishing the warmth of his skin on mine. He shifted closer to me, leaning lower, not taking his eyes off me.

"Please," I whispered against the gentle move of his thumb. I wasn't brave enough to verbalize my exact need for him. I couldn't say it, but my body spoke for me. My toes stretched up, and my neck craned in an attempt to become tall enough to close the gap between us. To keep my balance, I placed my hands on his arms. Edward froze; all movements over my skin ceased. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, beating impatiently, erratically. I waited, frantic with anticipation, for Edward to replace his thumb with his lips.

"So sweet," Edward inhaled and finally closed the distance between us. He didn't kiss my lips; instead, he softly peppered the skin under each of my eyes and whispered, "The blessing part is you. I'm the one who brings the curse, and it kills me to do this to you."

I threw my arms around him, happy when he didn't stop me or protest. He placed his chin on the top of my head, slid his arm over my shoulder and wove his fingers into my tangled hair, tugging me close to his chest. I sighed in contentment and wished we could stand like that for an eternity.

But Charlie wouldn't wait that long. He probably wouldn't wait for another ten minutes.

"I need to go." I sighed, feeling soothed and utterly exhausted at the same time. "I don't want to, but I really have to."

"Hmmh," Edward breathed me in one last time and released me from his embrace. "I'll follow you."

"No, it's okay." I didn't need Charlie, who was already highly suspicious, to notice a loud, flashy Harley following me on our small street.

"Well, allow me at least to make sure you get out of here safely," Edward responded. My first reaction was to roll my eyes and object. Like I didn't know how to get home. But then, I realized that Edward wasn't trying to undermine me, he was simply protecting me, and I needed to learn how to accept his offers in kind.

"Okay." I nodded, smiling.

This simple word solicited an unexpected reaction from Edward.

He smiled brilliantly back and kissed my forehead. "Thank you, baby."

"Will you call me tonight?" he asked once he walked me to the truck. "Anytime is good."

I laughed. "That time works for me too."

Edward kept his word; he followed me until I reached Forks' town limits, where he braked and watched me drive away.

I walked into the house with a heavy heart. Charlie sat in the kitchen, obviously waiting for me. He looked at his watch pointedly and then at me.

I stoically withstood a long, appraising look from him; cop and parent—both on guard, clearly searching for visible signs that I might be in trouble or distress.

"Dad, I'm sorry," I said, ready to face the music.

"Bella, don't ever do this again," he said gruffly. His hands shook slightly when he placed them on the table. My ever collected, almost phlegmatic father appeared ruffled and upset. "I am not going to watch your every move, but don't give me reason not to trust you."

"It won't happen again. Next time, if I'm late, I'll call you," I promised, feeling really crappy after seeing what I had done to him.

He considered my words and said, shaking his head, "That's not enough. Next time, please make sure I know where you are going before you leave the house. You are my responsibility, and Renee would crucify me if, god forbid, a single hair falls off your head. Hell, I'd crucify myself." He groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, as a probably not so pleasant picture played in his mind. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, Dad. You have nothing to worry about."

"I sure hope so," he relented. "But this week, please refrain from going out or chatting too much on the phone. Not until after the prom, do you hear me?"

_Prom._

Oh no.

I had completely forgotten about the big event that was being held at Forks High this coming Friday night. I had decided a long time ago that I wasn't going, but both Charlie and Renee had been adamant about me having _the experience_. Jessica had the dress, shoes and accessories picked out since March. Even timid Angela was ready and excited, while I hadn't even bothered to consider it all these months. No one had asked to take me, and despite the fact the event was in a few days, I had no one still. Edward didn't count. His attendance was out of the question, even if I _could_ invite him, since he already told me that he didn't want me to tell anyone about us. Besides, wouldn't it be weird if I brought a strange guy who my friends had never heard about to prom? Without a doubt. What was even weirder was that Edward no longer seemed like a stranger to me. How was it even possible that although we started seeing each other only a few days ago, it seemed like I had already known him forever? That is, I knew whatever parts of himself he allowed me to know so far, of course, but I was hopeful. And I had a vivid imagination.

I almost started to smile before I remembered that I was still in the kitchen and my father was still looking at me.

Without further commenting on the prom matter, I said, "I hear you, Dad. I'm going upstairs."

"What happened to your cake idea?"

"I changed my mind."

He mumbled something under his breath and then reminded me, "You still need to eat." When did he become so overzealous?

"Maybe later," I answered but grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl to pacify him.

The bright light of the new bathroom fixture revealed the knotted mess of my hair, flushed cheeks and a slightly wild gleam in my eyes. Edward had that affect on me; I was surprised Charlie didn't comment on my disheveled look. Did he notice how unglued I seemed? I certainly felt that way—shaken, off-kilter, not myself. But I liked it, I didn't miss the old "me" because really, there was nothing to mourn over.

I quickly rinsed my face with cold water, hoping that it would help me calm down and retreated to my room. To my sanctuary.

About half an hour later, as I was trying to immerse myself into the research I had to finish for my paper, I heard the front door close and my father's cruiser drive off.

"Hey, Bella." A quiet voice made me snap my head up from the notepad I had been scribbling research notes in. Research which wasn't advancing fast enough due to the obsessive cloud of Edward that taken over my entire brain.

Jessica was standing at the door of my room, looking like she was unsure if she was welcome.

"Jessica!" I rushed to her, happy she was here and feeling guilty about forgetting my plan to call her. "I'm sorry; I meant to call you. I have so much to tell..." I stopped myself abruptly, remembering that there were certain things I couldn't share even with my close friend, even if I so wanted to.

Jessica nodded grimly. "Yeah, me too."

"What's going on, Jess?" I was instantly alarmed. Searching through my mind yet again, I was trying to figure out what it was that I could have done to make Jessica so upset with me; she'd been acting weird for a while.

I was coming up blank.

Half-expecting to see her walk to my bed and flop herself down, like she always did when in my room, I was surprised when she stiffly moved to the window, avoiding my gaze. My heart felt heavy in my chest; something was very wrong.

"Jess, please talk to me, you're freaking me out," I said, moving closer and touching her shoulder. "What is it?"

She turned to me; her smiling mouth did not go together with the tears in her eyes. That look devastated me. I reached to hug her, not caring if it made me uncomfortable, She needed it and I wanted to be there for her.

"Please, Bella, don't," she said in a stilted voice and freed herself from my awkward embrace. A new emotion flashed in her eyes, one that told me that even if she needed a hug, I wasn't the person she wanted it from.

"I'm sorry, Jess," I dropped my hands.. "Are you upset with me? I don't know what I did."

To my surprise, she sneered. "You never do." She leaned towards me, narrowing her eyes. "Look at you, always the naive, oblivious Bella, aren't you?"

"What?" Reactively, I stepped back. "Why are talking to me like that?"

"How can you be surprised that I'm upset?" Jessica's face somewhat softened, but it was still contorted by anger. "How can you not see what's going on around you?"

I shook my head, having no idea how to respond to her words. All I knew was that there was some sort of misunderstanding, and it was getting worse.

"I know," Jessica said with a resigned sigh. "Now you think I'm some sort of intolerable bitch, which makes me feel even more like crap. I just don't understand you at all, Bella." She curled a lock of her hair around her finger—a familiar Jessica-like gesture—but instead of swirling, she yanked on it, grimacing. "You think I'm some sort of a clueless bimbo, I get it. I'm not even surprised by it. I've heard worse, you know? But as my friend, you should treat me better.

"When you first came to Forks. On the first day, in the parking lot, remember?" The expression on her face changed from anger to resentment. Even if I didn't know what brought this on, it killed me to realize that somehow I was the reason for it.

"Of course." That was one of the toughest days of my life.

"You looked so lost, and I thought that... I thought..." She groaned. "I feel like that a lot, Bella," she whispered. "Do you know that? I _understood_ you. I wanted to be a good friend to you."

"Oh, Jess, you are." I tried to take her hand.

"No." She stepped back.

Her chin quivered. Exhaling sharply through her nose, she made a quick, frustrated pass of her hand over her twisted mouth, as if trying to wipe the exasperation off her face. I could tell she struggled to keep tears at bay.

Taking a few calming breaths, she closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them at me. "It's always one-sided with you, Bella, have you ever noticed that? The world doesn't revolve around you. There are other people, though probably not perfect, still, they deserve your respect and attention. I deserve it. I've been nothing but supportive of you."

I listened to her in shock. She was right—I _was_ completely oblivious and now baffled.

"Jessica, no," I tried to defend myself but didn't know what to say. I bit the inside of my cheek, struggling with the idea that she believed I wasn't a good friend to her. I kept thinking that it was just a misunderstanding because I cared, _truly cared_ about her.

Jessica bowed forward, and her forehead touched the window, leaving a circle of fog on the glass. "Do you know that Mike has a crush on you?" She wasn't looking at me, and her voice was hollow, strained.

"Who?" I heard words, but struggled to understand.

"Please, Bella, quit pretending," Jessica sighed bleakly and rolled her head over the glass to face me, her eyes finally meeting mine. Just a moment before I wanted to rush to her, grab her hands, assure her that it was all a mistake. If only we talked it out and cleared it up, everything would be back to us—Jessica and Bella, the best of friends. But she looked so detached and guarded that the chill mask on her face stopped me dead.

And she wasn't done with me. "Do you remember that evening when you went to Port Angeles for the first time and didn't tell me?"

I nodded; a picture of Jessica with a black eye flashed vividly in my memory.

"You never let me apologize. I was... am truly sorry for hitting you, Jess."

She half-smirked at me. "Don't bother. I didn't let you because I would have to forgive you, and I didn't want to."

"Why?" I whispered, already knowing that there would be more revelations, and none of them would be easy to hear.

"Because then I would have to explain to you why I had been lurking around your house that night."

"So, it was true, you were?" I knew something wasn't adding up that unfortunate evening I punched Jessica. She had acted obtuse and weird about her reasons for coming to my house, blaming me for not calling her, and she had carefully avoided talking about it ever since. "What was your agenda then?"

"No agenda." Jessica grimaced and stood straight. "I was convinced that you went out with Mike."

"Excuse me? _Your_ Mike? Mike Newton?"

"I wish he was mine." She glanced at me, her face fell even more, the sad creases on the sides of her mouth told me she was losing her hope with that guy. I just couldn't understand what it had to do with me.

"Well, he's certainly not mine," I stated firmly. "Wait. You actually thought I was coming home with him that evening, didn't you? You wanted to catch us?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I did." She sighed. "Lauren told me that she overheard Mike bragging to the other guys that he was going out with a beautiful brunette. You said you were going to Port Angeles, but then, you wouldn't answer my calls. You practically disappeared for entire afternoon, and I freaked out. I was so damn sure you were together."

"No. No, never." I shook my head fiercely. "I can't believe you thought that."

"I don't know, Bella. What about two days ago? You were so evasive about some guy wanting you to call him, like you were hiding something concerning me. It wasn't Mike?"

"No, that was... someone else." I _promised_ Edward not to talk about him to anyone. I couldn't do it, even if my relationship with my best friend depended on it. I was trapped. "Jessica, where is this coming from? There is nothing going on between me and Mike."

"Mike thinks differently. How could you not see it? Who is clueless between us?"

"I don't care about him. I never will."

She didn't listen. "What is it that you have and I don't? You're not even fun," she said bitterly.

"I can be fun," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flame.

_Edward thought so, didn't he?_

"Not really. You don't even try," she disagreed, pushing her lips into a half-smile. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm saying these things to you. I don't mean them, and you don't care what I think anyway."

Even if she didn't mean to say those things, the pain still tugged at my chest.

"I have nothing to do with Mike, but I do care about you. You are my best friend." I felt the tears constricting the breath in my throat; my voice was hoarse. Had I been in denial all this time? Was that what she really thought of me?

"Okay, I'll bite, _my friend_," she said, and I wished there wasn't a sarcastic undertone when she addressed me. "Can you do something for me then?"

"Sh-sure. Of course."

"Don't take that job at Newtons. Don't go near that store—or Mike," Jessica implored in one breath, looking at me almost daringly.

I blinked a few times. "Are you serious? I need this job! Mrs. Newton said that I beat ten other candidates to get it!"

"That's right, including me," she informed me acidly. "Why do you think you were chosen?"

I was ashamed to admit that most likely they picked me because they respected my father—the Forks Chief of the Police. But once I'd got the job, I didn't want to give it up. Just like Charlie said this morning, from this point it was up to me to make a reputation for myself. How could I explain to him that I quit the job before even starting because of some stupid cat fight with Jessica? Besides, I needed the money. I couldn't allow Edward to pay for me at every turn. I was determined to prove to him that I wasn't a little girl who required constant parentage and coddling. I could take care of myself.

"So, you don't know why?" Jessica asked, tilting her head. She scowled. "Here's the news flash. They picked _you_ because Mike whined to his mom about it long enough. He made her talk to your dad."

"How would you know that?" I asked, defensively.

"It's a small town. We know everything about everyone. Mike pushed and pulled; he plans to woo you over the summer."

I huffed, annoyed with the portrayal of Mike Newton as someone who was so sure of himself; people liked to make things up. "That's ridiculous."

She nodded and shrugged. "I'm not surprised. I expected you to laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing, but it doesn't make any sense. I don't know where he got the impression that I was interested, but I told you, I couldn't care less about Mike."

I said that, already figuring that it was futile, she wouldn't believe me.

She didn't. "I don't want you to be around him. Just the thought of it kills me." She gave me a pleading look. "Bella, please, if you want, I can ask my mom about a job at the diner."

Jessica couldn't guarantee me a job, and she knew how I felt about working as a waitress. I much preferred to be a stock girl in the back of the store than deal with demanding customers. I couldn't believe she expected me to give up something important to me because of a hypothetical assumption that someone I didn't even care about liked me.

What hurt the most was that my friend didn't trust me.

Jessica stood in the middle of the room, picking at the strap on her shoulder, expecting something I couldn't agree to. She was asking for too much.

I shook my head and fixed my eyes on my toes. "This is just mad. I need this job. I'm sorry."

"Of course you are." Jessica nodded; her blue eyes were tired, dull. "I'm sorry, too."

I didn't run after her, too dumbfounded by what just happened. I argued with myself that I had acted like a responsible adult, while Jessica was being unreasonable and trying to bully me. I told myself that none of what Jessica accused me of was true. I cared about her, and Mike Newton could go to hell.

Somehow, I had trouble believing it myself, and I had no-one to talk to about it.

_Edward._

I toyed with the keys of my phone, yearning to speak with him. He told me to call him anytime. He made me feel protected.

Edward didn't feel like I was using him, did he?

Yet, I was reluctant to call him. If I did it now, would he think that I was too needy?

What about texting? If I texted, he could answer whenever he felt like it.

_**I think I just lost a friend and I'm feeling really down -B**_

I sent a message, folded my arms on the table and placed my head on top of them.

I wasn't selfish. Jessica was wrong about me.

Jessica was wrong, and somehow I felt like complete, utter failure.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there's that. Did you see it coming? Who's side are you on?**

**The next chapter is EPOV, and I'm going to ask you to trust me. ****This is where the story starts unfolding, buckle up.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	20. Chapter 18 Avarice

**A/N: You guys continue blowing me away. Thank you for all the love through reviews and alerts, you're amazing.**

**I thank my betas Twitchling and Saluki168 for providing their skillful beta hands to my chapters. I feel your love, I love you too. My pre-readers – AngryBadgerGirl and Philadelphic – my deepest gratitude for supporting me. Philadelphic had helped with the name of the chapter (again!).**

**The past two weeks have been awesome. You know why? Remember my colaboration piece with Rags88 "The Loved One"? We entered into the "Beyond the Pale" contest, taboo one. We won an award "The best exploration of taboo/fetish"! Rags, high-five!**

"**Sinnerman" has been featured on MyVampFiction and I had been interviewed for the "Author spotlight". It was such an honor a pleasure, thank you MVF! And that's not all! My story has been recommended by ABG on Fictionators. I loved her review, and am very thankful. The links to both the reviews are on my profile.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**xxx**

_He turned me to face him. "Silly girl." He smiled tightly and pulled me to him. Shiver ran down my spine as soon as his warm lips touched the top of my head. "Don't you get it yet?" he whispered, his fingers seared my skin on the nape of my neck._

_I shook my head._

_"I don't give a damn about the money. I'll be anywhere and anytime to see you, no conditions," he said next to my ear._

**xxx**

**Chapter 18**

**Avarice**

But the rock cried out, I can't hide you

The rock cried out, I can't hide you

The rock cried out, I aint gonna hide you, guy

All along dem day

**-Sinnerman by Nina Simone**

**_EPOV_**

"So?" Jasper greeted me at the door with his usual politeness.

"In my trunk." I tossed the car keys to him and kept walking down the hall.

"Hey, that shit must be heavy!" he complained, seeing that I wasn't going to help him with unloading.

"Get Emmett." I shrugged without stopping or looking at him. I wasn't in the mood to deal with either of them, and I certainly didn't want Jasper to ruin the rest of the day for me by being around. I planned on locking myself in my room the minute I stepped over the threshold.

Taking the stairs, I had only two things on my mind: Bella and the shower, and not necessarily separately. That girl had no idea what she was doing to me this afternoon; how could bare arms be so innocent and so fucking sexy at the same time? From the moment she showed up at the coffee shop, my dick and my brain were having battle of wills. Judging by the looks of it, as I undressed to climb into the shower, my dick claimed this round in a clear victory. I didn't think it would even take me too long.

Making sure the door of the bathroom was locked as well, I turned on the water, stepped under and immediately reached for my hard on, giving myself a few long, pleasuring strokes. I tried to clear my mind of any thoughts and concentrate on the feeling under my hand, looking for a quick way to get off. That didn't work, because vivid images of Bella assaulted my memory instantly. It was like looking into a kaleidoscope while pointing it at the light—the colored objects, constantly reflecting off the mirror, formed a new picture every time you turned the tube. Bella's red lips, Bella's small hands, Bella's tiny freckles, delicately strewn over her arms and chest. It was frightening how many times during this afternoon I had to force myself to back away from her so I didn't start kissing and worshiping every single little freckle covering her skin. And I already knew that when I finally discovered the sweet taste of her skin, there would be no way back for me. I would never be able to walk away from her. I groaned as I thought of her skin under my tongue.

I quickened the speed of my strokes. Bella tested me so many times today, driving me up the wall as she teased and pushed. She seemed naïve and innocent one moment, and then insanely sexy and seductive the next. Both sides of her made it nearly impossible for me to keep my hands away from her. I wanted to touch her all the time, and while she didn't seem against that idea, I was still determined to keep her at arm's length. She didn't know me. She couldn't get too close. But here in my fantasy, I allowed myself to indulge a little. I imagined her soft hands locked behind my neck, up in my hair. I imagined myself kissing her shoulder, her neck, that delicious spot behind her ear, her leg hitching over mine while I ground against her. I imagined what it would be like to splay her on the sheets of my bed and lick her skin, taste her fingers, her nipples.

The orgasm that hit me was so strong and unexpected that I had to reach for the wall for support. I grunted and pulsated in my hand until there was nothing left in me.

xxx

The house was quiet, unnaturally so, when I finally came down to the kitchen. It was a rare occasion to have it empty, all to myself. I searched in the fridge and found some leftover Chinese take-out from last night; Rose loved Chinese food. I had just finished reheating it, and was about to sit down, when I heard the quiet prattling of feet in the hallway. Jasper appeared at the kitchen entrance in nothing but sweatpants. His hair was pushed to one side, as if he used an iron to stick it that way, his face looked puffy and beat.

"Wanna get a smoke with me?" he asked, yawning and scratching his chest with his yellow fingers.

"Where is everyone?" I asked back.

He shrugged. "Rose wanted to take advantage of the good weather. They are probably at the springs. You know how much she is into all that natural, therapeutic shit."

That wasn't even a question for me to respond to. I knew Rose, yes, and I knew what drove her to be what she was. Sometimes I tried not to think about it, but I could never forget how she became that way, so I simply nodded.

"Since when are you taking late afternoon naps?" I glanced at Jasper again.

"Wild night, needed to recuperate." He smirked suggestively.

I cocked my head to the side, mildly amused. Did I even want to know?

"Alice is on a needy streak again, which means she is super demanding." He wiggled his brows and chuckled.

"Jasper." I sighed, deciding that no, I didn't want to know the rest.

"I'm not complaining," he said, ignoring the warning in my voice. He moved to sit down on the opposite side of the table and stretched out his legs. "She is up for pretty much anything when she's like that. Though, I tell you, it's the best when she's angry."

"Would you shut the fuck up about my sister? Keep it to yourself!" Having no appetite left as a result of this conversation, I pushed the box containing the unfinished Chicken Kung Pao away from me.

"You think so little of me, brother." Jasper sighed. "I can be a gentleman, Ali knows."

I snorted. "I highly doubt that. I will never understand what she sees in you. She thinks you're a saint. For two fucking years you've been playing this game. But you'll mess up, one day you will, and I'll be there to watch it and pick up the pieces you'll leave behind."

"Just like you did last time?" He bristled. "Did you even notice how depressed she was then? How about now? Do you ever pay attention to anything but yourself?"

I snapped my mouth shut, because yes, Jasper was right. I had paid very little attention to my sister's issues when they first met, though at the time I thought I had a good reason for it. It was a complete surprise to me that she was currently suffering from one of her episodes. Guilt washed over me yet again. I was a horrible brother.

Worried, I pushed my pride aside. "How bad is it this time? Does she need to see someone?"

"I don't think so, she seems moody, but functional," he said. "She's been complaining that she feels isolated."

"Isn't the store enough for her? She seems to be pretty occupied by it." I was perplexed and planned to talk to Alice the first chance I got.

"Too many secrets." Jasper shrugged, looking through the window across the room. "She thinks we don't trust her; she doesn't get the whole idea of us protecting her and counting on her in case something goes wrong. She wants to be in, too."

"That's out of question, Jasper, and you fucking promised!" My fingers clenched into fists on my lap.

"I know. You think you're the only one who cares? She is my girl, Edward." If I didn't know Jasper better, I would think he looked almost offended. I didn't believe him. This man had brought nothing but trouble to my family.

"Anyway, E, we need to talk." He glanced at me, pulled the box with the unfinished food to him and started eating using my dirty fork. _Fucking repulsive._

"Jasper, at least get clean silverware," I begged, not able to even look at him licking my fork.

"_Silverware._" He laughed. "Please, man, what's with the fancy words? How is it that even after all this time, after everything we've gone through together, you and your family still think you're better than me?" Anger flashed in his eyes, but he suppressed it quickly. He sent another piece of chicken into his mouth and began to chew on it loudly. "You're not." He pointed the fork at me. "And I honestly don't care where that fork was. I've slept on the streets and eaten next to dumpsters, sharing food with cockroaches. Ever seen those? Yeah, I didn't think so. So, lose the stuffed shirt, wouldya?"

I blanched. "Don't talk to me about pain and suffering and how it made you all entitled. I don't use my childhood against you, and it's not my fault you've become such a greedy bastard."

"You have faults of your own, E. Own up already." Jasper leaned closer to me, a small piece of food stuck in the corner of his mouth. I fucking hated him, everything about him, and I hated that he knew exactly what buttons to push to beat me down.

"What do you want, Jasper?" I asked, tired of the pointless argument, and just very tired in general. Everything good that had happened to me today suddenly felt like it happened in some other life, not with me. I sat back on the chair.

"I want those access codes," Jasper jumped right to it.

Although I knew what he was about to say, still, my heart stuttered, and I had to take a deep breath to calm down. Because I already knew what was expected from me in order to get into the system. I had to get close to the girl who could help us to do so while I didn't want tom—_couldn't_—even think about anyone else besides Bella.

"Don't fuck with me, Edward," Jasper said in a low voice, since I was neither responding, nor looking at him. The asshole smelled anxiety and resistance and locked onto me with the grip of a pitbull. "Someone has to do it, and the choices are very limited here. Do you want me to send Ali to befriend her?"

"Fuck you!" I spat in his gloating face.

Jasper knew very well I would never allow Alice to be involved.

"Enough!" He smacked his palm on the table, making me flinch. "No more games. You'll do what you need to do, so start working on it. We will discuss the new job tonight at ten. You better have some idea about how you're going to approach that girl by then. I'm losing my patience."

Jasper wasn't kidding, but I wasn't intimidated, either.

"Don't you ever raise your voice at me again," I warned him and rose to my feet. To drive my point home, I snatched the box with the Chinese leftovers from his hands and threw it in the garbage. It was an open invitation. In fact, I was _hoping_ that he'd accept it and finally give me an opportunity to throw a few punches so I could get it out of my system.

But Jasper was smart, and he could sense how eager I was to push this argument to another level; he wasn't going to give me the pleasure of breaking a few fingers against his thick skull.

He got up too, smiling big. "Ten o'clock tonight, E, in the basement. Get to thinking and come prepared."

He disappeared down the hallway before I could respond.

"Motherfucking shit," I cursed loudly. I had nothing else left to throw around but empty words.

xxx

For the next hour I paced in my room, smoked outside, and lay on my bed, staring without focus at the dusty ceiling light while squeezing the fuck out of a stress ball. Staring and squeezing did nothing to help my stress.

Things hadn't gone my way for so long, I didn't know if I'd ever make anything right. There was one, just one, bright spot in my life, and I found myself thinking about Bella obsessively again. It was either that or thinking about how I would make my move on that chick in Olympia and become Jasper's whore.

_Just. No._

I had my helmet in my hands and was locking the front door of the house before I started smashing things in my room. I needed to drive. Somewhere. Anywhere away from here. I had to think how I was going to get myself out of this fucked up mess and have any dignity left.

In the next twenty minutes I managed to break only one law—speeding limit. Of course, I knew where I was rushing to. There was only one place I wanted to be. _Bella. Bella. Bella._She became my anchor, my pillar, my cord to sanity.

_Sanity? Wake-the-fuck-up, Cullen!_

I braked in the middle of the road, feeling a wave of panic roll over me. What was I doing? I couldn't just show up at Bella's house and ask to see her. It wouldn't exactly comply with the rule of being on the 'down low' we were following. Even if I was so as stupid as to introduce myself to Bella's father, who was the Chief of Police, no less, there was another problem—Bella had no idea that I knew where she lived. The minute she learned that I had been stalking her for weeks, we'd be over, I was sure of it. Bella was too smart, too level-headed, too... She was perfect. And I was fucking it up.

I looked at the texts we had exchanged after seeing each other this afternoon. I could send another one, but it wasn't enough, I really wanted to hear her voice again. After the hours we had spent together, after I dared to open up to her more than I ever thought I'd allow myself, calling her so soon wouldn't be a crime, would it?

I drew a long breath and looked at my phone again. I could make the conversation light and inconsequential. Hearing a few words in her breathy, soft voice was all I needed—or so I thought.

Ten minutes later she was in my arms, and I couldn't get enough of the incredible feeling of her soft hands on me, and of her scent, which made me dizzy with want. There I had it. In a matter of several weeks, I had turned into a greedy, possessive bastard, the worst kind, because my thoughts and limbs were locked around one exquisite girl who had no reason to trust me and yet, she was here, hugging me back.

"I didn't expect _you_ to happen to me," I eventually confessed to her, trying to explain that I was no less confused and lost than her. "I feel completely unhinged. Cursed one moment. Blessed—another. It's out of control, something I can't afford in my life."

That was true—I couldn't. My focus kept faltering; by getting close to Bella I kept endangering my family as if I hadn't done enough damage already, and now I feared that I could screw up Bella's life as well. I felt like a fucking freight train hurtling forward at full speed, threatening to wreck everything in its path. I needed to slow down, for everyone's sake. Or better yet—turn around and leave for good. But I was unable to walk away from this girl, even though I knew that I'd probably ruin her.

It was selfish, it was making me feel disgusted with myself, but Bella gave me hope I didn't have the strength to give up. She saw something in me that I forgot I ever had. When she was this close, telling me that she trusted me, I didn't feel like a savage. When I touched her face, looked into her round, brown eyes, watched her blush, I couldn't help but imagine how it would be like to be worthy, to be good for her. It was so easy to believe that I could be.

And would it be so wrong to bring home a girl who became my world so she could meet Rosalie and Emmett? Didn't Alice feel alone, isolated to the point of sinking into depression? My girls—Alice and Bella—they could become the best of friends, would it be so wrong to give Alice this much?

But didn't I promise myself when I just met Bella that I would never expose her to the shit I had going on in my life? I was slipping, and I had to remind myself over and over again to be careful, very careful.

I was proud of myself for not giving in to my thirst for Bella's beautiful lips, even though I was already imagining them crimson and swollen. _Mine._

Her longing gasps and the scent of her warm, sweet breath on my face made me a goner. Barely able to control the flood of need, I allowed myself to touch the softness of her full, parted in anticipation lips, and when that was no longer enough, I submitted to my earlier fantasy and held her face to mine so I could kiss the tiny freckles peppering her cheeks, enjoying the delicious, blushing heat of her skin.

My Bella was breathtaking. She was the blinding light, the gulp of air, the breath of fire that made me feel alive, and for a few short moments I was whole. The feeling was too good to give up and I finally stopped trying.

Somehow at the end of the evening, as I watched her drive away and missing her already, I was resolved to commit the impossible: I would continue to lead two separate lives; one where I was good enough for a girl like Bella, and one in which I had to continue being involved in illegal shit to support my family.

Yes, I truly was fucked.

xxx

I came down to the basement a few minutes before ten o'clock. The entire family was already in the room, and some of them did not look pleased.

"Al, come on." Rose didn't bother to hide her irritation. She already sat at the table, the light from above shone dimly on her blond locks, and she kept twisting a silver band on her wedding finger. Her beautiful, expensive wedding ring was one of the first things she sold when we started having money trouble; it broke Emmett's heart. "We've had this conversation before. You know where we need you, and it's not here. Please go upstairs and keep an eye on the monitor. Can I trust you with that?" she pressed, her eyes boring holes in my sister.

Alice sniffed but didn't move. She looked like a bristled kitten, standing defiantly at the table and hugging herself tightly around her midsection. Uncomfortable silence fell between us. Rose tapped her nail and looked expectantly at Emmett. Emmett, my big brother, instantly seemed smaller under Rose's glare. He shifted lower in his seat and mumbled, "Please do not make it harder, Ali."

Rose snorted. "It will take more than that to convince her, Em."

"I belong here with you." Alice darted her pleading eyes at me, and I had no choice but to intervene.

"Alice, you have to follow our agreement," I reminded her, trying to keep my voice soft, but my words firm. Alice was fragile, I knew that without Jasper being in my face about it, but this talk was necessary. "You aren't even supposed to know that we get together here. I know you have been trying to help us before, but it has to stop. The slightest shred of knowledge of what we are doing makes you an accessory." I noticed Emmett flinch, but he didn't say anything, shifting his eyes from me to Alice and back.

I sighed. "Sis, we can't allow that, it's important that you stay out of this. We have no one else to count on besides you in case something goes wrong. And that alone is a huge responsibility. I hope it will never come to that, but if it does, do you understand that it will be all on you?" Alice nodded after a slight hesitation. "Then please go." I motioned to the stairs.

I didn't feel any different from Emmett; it had always been hard to say 'no' to Alice, but when it came to this matter I couldn't cave in. We had an agreement. And if... when our operations folded... if... when it flopped, Alice would be the one adult standing who we'd have to rely on. I wished it was Rose, but she jumped into this shit with Jasper before talking to any of us, leaving us with no choice.

Never mind that things went from painfully desperate to plain dangerous along with her decision, but since Emmett went along with his wife's wishes without putting up much of a fight, my resistance looked especially ridiculous and unjust. And fuck, did I resist at first.

Jasper stood up and took Alice by her arm, tugging her to his side. She leaned to him like a magnet, looking at him sullenly with her lips pressed firmly together. He tucked her hair behind her ear and whispered something into it, causing her lips to turn into a small smile, but she still shook her head, disagreeing. Jasper cocked his eyebrow at her with an 'oh really' expression and whispered something again, softly kissing the tip of her ear, and then the back of her hand, as she relaxed under his lips. I suppressed the gagging sound stuck in my throat. The moment between them was very private, but I couldn't help the thought that whatever he was promising her wasn't anything of an innocent nature.

As if I was the one to talk. Alice was an adult and could form her own judgment, even though I thoroughly disagreed with her taste in men. All I could do in this situation was grind my teeth and look away. Jasper was just helping us to protect her, I had to be fair.

Just a few moments later, I felt relieved movement around the table and heard Alice's retreating steps.

"Alright." Jasper turned back to the table. I expected him to gloat to us at least a little about his 'negotiating' skills, but instead I saw a man whose face was focused and solemn. He wasn't fucking around indeed.

Still waiting for him to start questioning me, I pulled a cigarette lighter out of the pocket of my jeans and began spinning it on the table, watching it turn into a red blurry circle.

"Okay, ready?" Jasper opened his laptop. With surprise, I found that he wasn't looking at me like I was the culprit of the operation, and I realized that with all the pressure he had been putting on me, he wasn't actually lying when he said that everyone would be pulling their own weight.

"So, ladies and gentlemen, I have a lot to share with you tonight, so buckle up," he announced cheerfully, pulling his lips into a nauseatingly pleasant smile, making my insides turn. Why did he have to be so obnoxious all the time?

He flipped the laptop open, quickly entered his password into the login screen and said, "Let me start by saying this: while the last two months weren't a complete waste, we will not continue with our current assignments. The low-hanging fruit is no longer providing the necessary gain, so it's in our best interest to get a little more ambitious. And I believe I've got just the right job to get us to the next level."

"_Our best interest_," I muttered. I knew whose ambitions we were _really_feeding here, but it was pointless to argue. Too late for that.

"I know there has been a lot of work done already," Jasper carried on, not even acknowledging my snide remark, "and I'm sure some of it could be re-used in the future. But we're essentially starting from scratch. Starting with the simple stuff. Like, depending on our plan, we might need new ID badges, or might not need them at all this time."

"Too bad," I said sarcastically. "The picture of you in braces and nerdy glasses on the last ID was priceless."

"I know, right?" He grinned, looking content. My mocking tone didn't faze him. "I'm kind of fond of it myself. I still hope to make an appearance as that guy some day," he said dreamily.

Rose loudly cleared her throat.

"What?" Jasper asked, turning to look at her. "It's fun!"

"Jasper, please," she said with agitation. "Quit fucking around."

He rolled his eyes. "You people need to relax. It's going to work, trust me."

"Show us," Emmett demanded in a steely tone, surprising us all.

"Why, Em, I am!" Jasper cried looking very happy. "And here's news for you and Rose. Edward brought more parts today, we'll still want the truck, so keep at it."

"Why?" Emmett asked, clearly not satisfied by the cryptic information provided to him so far. "If we aren't going to use and dump it right away, I'm concerned about keeping the truck here."

"Can't we rent indoor car storage?" Rose asked us.

"I've already got the space, Rose." Jasper smiled leisurely. "I told you, I know what I'm doing. You have to trust me."

"It isn't easy when you make decisions that concern us without talking to us first," Emmett interjected. "Whose name did you rent it under?"

"I didn't use any of ours, of course. Who are you taking me for, man? There will be no way to trace the rental to us."

"Fine," Emmett relented. "So, what are we doing? Give us the details."

"I'm getting there." Jasper removed a memory stick from his pocket and inserted it into the USB port.

"Our Edward will have a really juicy part in this operation," Jasper started, winking at me. _Can I punch him now? Asshole._ I clenched my teeth and leaned forward, glaring at him. He turned to Emmett as if he didn't just act like the smuggest son of a bitch and said, "Em, you'll get to be very busy too, as soon as Edward gets the access codes."

"Jasper, you have no idea what you're talking about," I interrupted him, too irritated to let him talk nonsense any longer. His ignorance was truly frightening, no wonder he needed us. The best he did without us was robbing gas stations and blackmailing losers like him. _Leech. _"You keep saying 'access codes', which is technically incorrect, so let's start using the right terms here. We need an _access to the system _and then the account numbers. But those, I'm guessing, you will never be able to get yourself, which is where Emmett will step in."

Emmett didn't react; he just sat there and looked at us as if he wasn't going to waste his breath on something until he had a better idea what it was. Or, maybe he just didn't care, which was most likely.

Rose probably suspected the same, because she sighed and asked, "Jasper, I know it's not in your nature to spill the beans unless it's absolutely necessary, but we have never done anything of this magnitude, so we need all the cards on the table."

Jasper thought for a moment and then nodded, "Looks like I have no choice.

"So, here is the deal. There is this guy I know. I learned a while ago that he _accidentally,_" Jasper rolled his eyes while punctuating the last word, "came by an impressive amount of dough. Naturally, I got him talking, and I had to be _very_ creative so he didn't become suspicious. And at this point, I believe I have enough information to allow us to walk away with good, if not the entire amount. The best part—if it's gone, he won't run to feds asking for help recovering it. Not if he doesn't want to explain where he got it in the first place."

Jasper looked extremely proud of himself, but I had my eyes on Rose, who in turn was watching Emmett.

"Em, the money is so good, we have to try it," she said quietly. "It's not bulletproof, and we can back out of it any time you want, but I think this is a good opportunity."

Emmett looked back at her quizzically. "How do you know? This is still all very vague."

"Jasper provided me with some details already," she admitted, her eyes, cautious, on her husband.

"Already provided, huh? When were you going to tell _me_?" he asked, not hiding the hurt in his voice that Rose confided in Jasper more than in him. Watching the unpleasant exchange between the two of them, followed by the awkward silence, I wondered how their marriage was still surviving after so many years of heartbreak and pain.

"Today." She darted her eyes away, fidgeting with her sleeve before looking at him again. "I didn't want to bother you if the idea wasn't worth a dime," she told him apologetically.

"I'd rather you did, Rose," Emmett objected softly, studying his wife's face. They both looked miserable. It seemed as if he wanted to add something else, but it didn't come. Instead, his squared shoulders slumped, and he removed his fisted hands from the table.

"So, there it is," Jasper interjected quickly, shifting on his chair with a creaking sound, drawing our attention back to the matter at hand.

Opening a folder containing at least a dozen pictures, he started explaining to us in more detail what he already shared with me in the car. I had to admit that after watching Jasper talk serious business, without the mocking act and pretenses, and if I didn't know him better, I could have actually developed some respect for him for his determination and creativity. On the other hand, our next endeavor wasn't exactly forgiving, especially if one of us had attention span issues or couldn't handle the pressure. The job was indeed heavy, like nothing we had ever done before, and I could feel the anxiety and foreboding starting to churn around us. We all understood how much was at stake here.

"The best news," Jasper pushed his long greasy hair away from his face beaming with excitement, "is that we have options on how we can execute this job. One is physically safer than the other, so, naturally, I prefer to explore that one first." He looked at each of us, waiting for acknowledgment.

I nodded.

Rose, who already had a good idea about Jasper's intentions, crossed one leg over the other and gestured to him to go on. She seemed comfortable with Jasper, if not relaxed, which I could never understand. Wasn't she worried about her future and about the rest of her family? She had so much to lose, and yet she never faltered from her strong belief that the path she had chosen was the right one for her. And once she was convinced that it was, the rest of us were expected to follow like sheep. Because, ultimately, that was what we were in her eyes.

Emmett sat up perfectly straight, with his arms back on the table, and his pose inviting Jasper to continue. As Jasper went on about his plan, Emmett listened to him very attentively, and I wondered if he had some sort of recorder in his brain that stored the numbers, pictures, and names in a certain order for easier use in the future. Though I had a lot better memory than him, he had a way to categorize and catalog information that made it seem like he never lost even a single bit of it.

My brother was brilliant, and it was a shame that he ended up putting his knowledge and smarts towards such a petty use. It was too late for regrets though, and maybe Emmett had finally come to that realization too, because for the first time since the accident, and since Rose announced her 'coalition' with Jasper, I was seeing a spark of interest in his eyes. Or maybe it wasn't so much an interest, but rather a decision that it was time to fight for what was his?

Whatever it was, it made me almost happy to discover that as Jasper kept talking, Emmett started leaning forward and asking more and more questions, clearly having no problems following Jasper's line of thought. My brother, lately despondent and submissive to a fault, was all of a sudden fully engaged in a discussion. Rose noticed the change too and started smiling at him. She and Jasper exchanged a few pleased looks as the conversation went on.

"So, where do we start?" Emmett asked, seemingly satisfied with the information provided to him, pushing himself to the back of his chair.

"We need to ask our Eddie-boy first." Jasper smirked at me.

I glowered at him and sobered up. _Here it comes._

All eyes were on me, and I cleared my throat before speaking, my thoughts running a hundred miles an hour in my head, searching for even a glimpse of an idea.

"So, the pink girl," I said, seeing that I couldn't keep silent any longer.

"Who?" Emmett interrupted me, perplexed.

I took a deep breath and let it slowly out. I decided that I'd just start talking and see where it would lead me.

"Uh, there is a girl, she works in IT, and according to Jasper has the access we need." I glanced at Jasper, who nodded and opened a file on his laptop. The blond girl from the food court was looking at us from the picture, smiling a fake all-American smile. A quick profile from Jasper revealed that her name was Kate Swarowsky, she was twenty-four years old, and a graduate of ITT, Seattle. She rented an apartment in Olympia with no roommates.

"Yeah, her." I pointed awkwardly. "I'm supposed to make her… uh... trust me."

It was absolutely quiet in the room; I thought I could have heard a fly if it decided to pass through.

"Shit," I muttered, mostly to myself. I wanted to get up and leave, to remove myself from this fucking shitty situation, but I was expected to be a team player, so I pushed myself to talk more. "I think I'm going to go… maybe see her tomorrow at lunch." I was now studying my hands on the table. I felt nausea rolling up in a slow, torturous wave, and I swallowed thickly, thinking that this audience would never let me live through it if I tossed my cookies during this conversation. Besides, I was the reason we were involved in this shit in the first place, and aside from Jasper, who obviously enjoyed the idea of the proposed activities on an unhealthy level, no one was here of their own free will. At least initially. So, I needed to man up.

"I think it will take me a while." I started thinking out loud. "I need to do more research and get closer to the girl." I cringed as I said those words. "If Jasper is right, I'll be able to find out through her what authentication mechanism they are using. One thing I know for a fact is that they haven't implemented biometric devices yet, which is good for us, because the voice-recognition or fingerprinting identification would be a lot tougher to beat. Frankly, I wouldn't even attempt it. From what I could find out, it looks like they use security fobs with a PIN to access the system. Of course, the idea here is to use the fob at the times when the girl doesn't suspect it. Stealing from her is not an option, she'll report it immediately making our efforts useless."

I had already discussed it with Jasper before and had spent a considerable amount of time yesterday looking into the subject matter. I just refused to think what to do with that information yet. Clearly, I had no choice but to think harder. While Jasper's main agenda was to get into the system without getting caught, my agenda was to do so without getting into the girl's pants. We were quite a pair.

"I have to be honest," I continued. "The perfect alignment of all the variables in this equation is not very likely for several reasons. First, I need to find out where she keeps her security fob, though this is the least of my worries." I started folding my fingers, counting, "Second, she'll have to somehow willingly share her PIN and system admin password with me. Which, let's be real, how likely is that? So, my hacking efforts will be cut out for me. Finally, I don't know if there is a log-on hours expiration, though with the sys-admin login it shouldn't be an issue, they normally work without hour restrictions."

"E, I presume this is still English, though you lost me," Jasper commented impatiently. "Why don't we leave it to you to worry about all the techie-nerdy stuff. I just want to know that you got this covered and how soon I can expect it to be done."

"What's with the arrogance all of a sudden, Jasper?" Emmett interjected. "It's not _Grand Theft Auto_ online with your buddies. We should understand every detail and know what we are dealing with here."

"I _have_ been providing plenty of details," Jasper objected.

"Not enough. E, tell me more," Emmett turned to me.

I nodded to him in appreciation. "So, yes, once I'm in with the admin password, Emmett will need to step in and tell me what to do, or do it himself if it's at all possible. Jasper, is there way to at least find out our mark's alias? I highly doubt that he opened accounts under his legal name. That would be extremely stupid of him."

"I'll see what I can do," Jasper said. "You'll need to tell me what other information I should be fishing out of him to narrow down the search."

"Sure, I'll come up with the criteria," Emmett replied.

"Basically, without it, there is no point risking breaking in. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack. I suspect that we might have only one shot at this and probably not a lot of time to finish. I have no intention of the pink girl ever finding out that she was the source of the leak; if the leak is ever discovered. But I'll be clean, I promise. Again, this entire plan is teetering on the edge of impossibility and in some way requires pure luck. And there are other things to worry about." I stopped and gazed at the people at the table who were looking at me very intently. "I will need more equipment and I already looked it up—this is going to be quite an investment. How are we doing with our funds?" I looked at Rose.

"Not great." She grimaced. "How much are we talking about?"

"Ball-park—forty five to sixty, I don't think this is a matter we can skimp on."

Rose sighed. "If you need it, you got it, Edward. Make it tight, though."

"Okay." I turned to Jasper and Emmett. "There's more. Jasper, we need to remove the access point from the station. I'm surprised they didn't sniff it out yet. It was still active this morning, but I don't want to take any chances. Get your guy to remove it; we don't need it this time anyway."

"Right, not _this_ time." Jasper gave me a mysterious look; the fucker was still hiding something from us. I could smell it, but already knowing him so well, I figured that pressing would give me nothing but another headache. I'd just need to watch out and possibly do some digging on my own to see what he was up to.

"One last thing," I said, resolved in my decision to keep even more watchful eye on Jasper. "My identity and background. I am definitely not using my real name with this girl."

"Of course," Rose agreed right away, she had been strangely quiet for the most part of this evening. "Take every precaution." She made an apologetic face at me, but I didn't couldn't catch the meaning of it, as Rose wasn't the type to be sorry for what she did or said.

"Yeah, call yourself Amadeus or something." Jasper snickered.

"What's wrong with you?" Rose snapped at him. "Why are you so giddy today? Are you high?"

"Hey," Jasper complained. "What's with the accusations? I am clean as a whistle. I'm just glad my family is here, in agreement for once, and we are about to embark on something that will make us all happy folks for a while."

"Don't push it, Jasper," Emmett warned him darkly. "We are far from an agreement yet. Besides." He shook his head. "This fuckery we are all in will never give us a _happy_ feeling."

"Well, then, Emmett, tell me how you think you'll feel?" Jasper asked, looking like he cared.

We all knew he didn't, but it was probably one of his new tactics. It wasn't enough that Emmett was protective of his family and would do just about anything for us, Jasper wanted him to look forward to it and to _want_ to succeed.

That was Jasper for you—relentlessly messing with other people's emotions and feelings, looking for a strong motivational factor to use against them. He had his hooks in all of us, now digging deeper into Emmett, and it looked like it was working.

"I'll be fucking relieved," Emmett responded and added with a grimace, "especially, if we're not in jail at the end of it."

"Oh, come on." The smirk on Jasper's face was wide as a house. "Won't you be _happy_ that your wife doesn't flinch every time the phone rings, thinking that it's the collectors calling, and that your kuh…"

"Shut up, Jasper!" I said before he could finish and before Emmett got in his face. I honestly didn't care if Jasper received a shiner, in fact, it would be extremely nice of Emmett to present Jasper with one—a wish I hadn't been able to fulfill myself so far. But I remembered Alice, and the fact that I was a douche of a brother, who still hadn't found a single minute of his time to speak with his sister about her problems.

"I think we're done for tonight." Jasper closed the laptop.

"Jasper, where are you going?" I asked, seeing that he was leaving the table. "How many times have I told you to wipe and dispose of the memory stick and clean up the history on your computer? Or do you want me to do that for you?" I suggested, smiling at him ruefully.

Jasper picked up the laptop. "Relax, E, I remember. And nice try." He smirked. "Like I'll let you near it."

"Like I couldn't hack it if I wanted to." I gave him what I would call a friendly scowl and took his advice by relaxing in my chair.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "I'll see you all later. Have fun at lunch tomorrow, brother." I ground my teeth at the reminder_. Fucker._

His laugh echoed above our heads as he proceeded up the stairs.

"Are you going to be okay?" Emmett asked, standing up and placing his palm on my shoulder.

"I don't know. I hope so." I faked a smile and pushed the chair out to get up. "I should ask you the same, Em."

"We are running out of money, Edward," Rose said quietly, raising her dark, concerned eyes to me. "We're comfortable _now_, but Jasper needs to be aggressive with this new job. We'll probably spend months in planning, and there are going to be serious expenses. God forbid we get caught; I need to make sure we have enough for the girls to go on without us. "

So, that was what bothered her. She knew she was pushing me, but she didn't have a choice—we needed the next job and soon. I sighed at the pained, solemn look on her face.

"I know, Rose, it is what it is," I told her softly; it wasn't her fault she was forced to become a criminal accessory. The fault was all mine. "I'm sorry," I added. This was probably the millionth apology I had offered to her in the last three years, and I wished it was enough. But it wasn't.

xxx

My phone showed that I had one text message from Bella right around ten. It was cryptic and worrisome.

**_I think I just lost a friend and I'm feeling really down. -B_**

I checked the time—it was past one o'clock in the morning. I swore under my breath, it was way too late to call her. _Bella thought of me, she needed me,_ even if the reason she needed me was to cry on my shoulder, especially if she needed me for that. I wanted to know who she was upset over, and how much it hurt her. I regretted that I wasn't there when she looked for me and wished I could do something to console her right this moment. I wanted her in my arms, and I wanted my hands on her. On her cheeks, in her hair, on her bare arms.

I felt it again—that strange, conflicting feeling—I didn't deserve this girl, but she was the only thing I could truly bring myself to care about. I felt insatiable and protective of her at the same time.

Since there wasn't much I could do at this hour, my best bet was to reply to her by text and hope that she'd see it first thing in the morning and call me back. Then I realized that tomorrow was a school day.

_Your Bella is a minor_—_a minor_—_Cullen, remember? _the gleeful voice in my head reminded me. I had to make an effort to shut it up by arguing with my fucking internal self that I just needed to be patient. It was suddenly easy to believe what Bella said to me earlier today—she wasn't going to be seventeen forever.

For now this voice was right. Bella had school and a watchful father who had enough power to create real problems for me and for her, which was so much worse and I couldn't allow it.

I had accepted the fact that she might not be able to call me during classes or during dinners with her dad, but now I was facing another complication—what if she tried to reach me during her recess tomorrow, while I was on that damn job with the pink girl? _Kate._

I didn't want to call the girl by her name; I decided to stick with the 'blond' or the 'pink girl'. No personal attachment, no strings, that way it would be easier to lie to her and steal what we needed.

I rolled in my bed—tired, frustrated, yearning. Torn.

**_Sorry for replying so late, B. I hope it's nothing serious with your friend. Call you in the afternoon? –E_**

I sent the message and turned the phone off, hiding it under the pillow, away from the temptation to keep looking at it, hoping for a response. Sighing, I turned to face the window, the bright moonlight hit my face, and I closed my eyes. I wished for a quick smoke, but it was too late, and I couldn't go outside without the risk of waking the house up when everyone already settled in for the night. When I finally fell into an abysmal cloud of sleep, I drowned in the vivid, daunting memories of fluorescent blinking light, bells of laughter ending abruptly, and a thrashing figure clawing at me, spitting the word "monster" over and over in my face.

I woke up with a start, covered in a sticky sweat, with the painful realization that my horrible nightmares were back again after only a short break.

I spent the rest of the night tossing in my bed, my thoughts flipping between my hopeful interactions with Bella from this week and the dreadful pickup lines I was trying to come up with for tomorrow when I'd have to meet the pink girl.

xxx

**_I'm better this morning, going to class. What are you up to today? –B_**

That text from Bella and the hours spent driving to Olympia only made my dread worse. I kept telling myself that this lunch would be nothing different from what I had done many times before. In fact, I normally didn't have to make a lot of effort to get attention or a phone number from a girl.

Except this time, I already knew that the difference existed. It was as if I was offered a glass of a hundred-year-old brandy—the rarest, finest cognac—and once I had tasted it, nothing could compare to its warm, irresistible aroma. Everything else was now more like a stale, cheap beer, and I wanted none of it ever again. I would have traded one small sip of one over a barrel of another.

Jasper was right, though, the pink girl was nothing if not predictable. As soon as I entered the food court, it wasn't difficult to spot her blond locks and bright lipstick. Today she was wearing something extremely orange that looked suspiciously like an astronaut's jumpsuit. The girl clearly craved attention, except she was going about it totally wrong. Pity and guilt stirred in my chest, but only for a moment. I suppressed the heavy feeling, reminding myself that I had a job to do–I needed that access to the system.

I forced myself to focus on the task at hand and forget everything else that could prevent me from completing it. My phone was off, and so were my emotions, and my name on the fake ID was the only reminder left about how far I had gone in order to undo the one horrible mistake that in reality could never be undone, no matter how hard I tried.

With a tray of food and a soda in my hand, I stalked determinedly to the table where the girl sat, plastering the signature 'sex' smile on my face, and asked, nodding to the empty chair across the table from her, "Excuse me, miss, is this seat taken?"

* * *

**A/N:Oh, damn 'pink girl'! Should I run and hide while you take guesses how this "date" goes?**

**Have you figured out who's who yet from the previous chapters? Leave me your thoughts, please, and thank you for reading.**

**If you haven't heard Nina Simone's "Sinnerman", I highly recommend it:http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=Bn5tiuZU4JI**


	21. Chapter 19 Omnia Vanitas

**A/N: A little bit of a delay, I hope you're still out there and reading. Thank you for supporting my story, and special thanks to those who reviews! **

**As always – my love and gratitude to my betas twitchling and Saluki168. You, girls, keep me sane. Saluki, hugs!**

**My fabulous pre-readers – AngryBagerGirl and Philadelphic, I appreciate your support. Thank you, ladies! **

**If you are not aware yet, I have a blog and post teasers and picteases for each chapter. Check my profile for the link or follow me on twitter. **

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 19**

**Omnia Vanitas**

_**BPOV**_

"Bella, baby, are you up?"

_At six o'clock in the morning? No._

"Mom, it's really early," I complained, mumbling into the phone pressed between my head and the pillow. I had no energy to move a muscle, let alone hold my hand up to my ear. I had stayed up until midnight, pouring my soul out writing and then laying in bed staring at the bright moon that gleamed into my room through the window. I kept replaying my conversation with Jessica, the picture of her slumped frame and the disappointment in her pale blue eyes was stuck behind my lids every time I closed my eyes. I felt enormous guilt and her words, "It's always one-sided with you, isn't it?" haunted me.

Needless to say, I dreaded going to school in the morning.

"Baby, I'm sorry, it's already nine here in Florida, and I'll be stuck in this class I'm taking all day, but I needed to tell you something," Renee started explaining.

I groaned. "Mom, you could have just emailed me."

"You've been ignoring my emails, Bella. We need to talk about that too, but not now. I have something very exciting to share."

_Ugh._ _Please don't tell me you're pregnant. I'd take that news much better over email._

I knew that I'd be happy for my mom; it wasn't like I was jealous. Well, okay, I would be a little jealous about a baby —the only child spoke in me irrationally—but Renee didn't need to know that. I was a big girl and my mother had her own life and deserved happiness.

I braced myself.

"Just don't fight with me on this one, Bella, promise me," Renee begged.

"What is it about?"

"Okay. So, your father and I were talking…"

That was _not_ a good preface.

"Since when do Charlie and you talk?"

"Since you're our daughter, Bella. We've always talked. Except now we do it more often. And, trust me, your father needs occasional parenting advice."

Renee giving Charlie parenting tips. _Hilarious._ I'd love to hear _that _conversation.

"Umm, what is it, mom?" I reminded her as politely as I could.

But apparently, I couldn't win with her. "Yes, yes, don't interrupt your mother, Bella," she scolded me before continuing, "It's about prom. You already know that your father and I both think you should go, and here's why. Now, you promised to listen and not interrupt me, remember?"

"No, I didn't," I objected, rolling my eyes. It was going to be a long conversation, and I was unfortunately fully awake now.

"Mom, please." I sighed, because I knew it was futile. She had already told me before that unless I was suffering from a concussion, had broken legs or stitches on my face, there would be no excuse to miss such a great experience as Junior prom. Maybe I needed to change my phone number and not share it with her until this week was over? I seriously considered that option.

"Bella, my dear girl, please don't argue. I may not usually have the most common sense in the world." _U_m, y_a think?_ "But I do know the importance of living your life to the fullest. Proms are important."

"Give me one good reason, mom. One," I demanded. "I promise to consider it, if it's a really good one."

"I have two. It will make me very happy if you go, and I will not annoy you with another request for the next six months."

_Seriously?_

"This is not all about you, not this time, Renee." Frustration was loud in my voice. It was rare that I called my mother by her name to her face, happening only when I was extremely irritated. "_Me. Prom. Don't want to go._ You're welcome to take my place if you're so eager."

Jessica obviously hated me at this point, and unless Mike miraculously decided to be her date, she would probably say nasty things about me. I could just imagine the hostile stares from her and Lauren, and the gossip behind my back. Why on Earth would I want to subject myself to such torture?

"This is just silly, Bella!" The metal of the bracelets on Renee's wrist jingled loudly in my ear; I pictured Renee bouncing on her toes and shaking her finger at the phone. "Every girl is looking forward to this evening, thinking about dresses, makeup and shoes, and here you are fighting me like a child."

Not surprisingly, that comment made me fume as I saw the situation quite differently.

"Thank you, mom, for reminding me how much I'm not like everyone else. But just because I don't enjoy awkward dancing and drinking in the parking lot afterwards, it doesn't make me a child!" I refuted. "Maybe the truth is that I feel older than most kids my age. I know I don't fit in pretty much anywhere," I added dejectedly, admitting the obvious.

"Oh honey," Renee cooed. "I'm sorry you feel that way, I have no doubt that you're the smartest and wisest of them all."

"Flattery?" I asked with indignation. "You use flattery now to get what you want?"

"No, I'm letting you know that I hear you, Bella. I never said that it's easy to be a teenager. But can you blame me for wanting you to be one? Awkward dancing may become a precious memory. Well, the drinking in the parking lot… Eh. I agree; you can skip that one."

She hadn't won, my mother, but I was running out of ideas on how to derail her.

"Mom, I don't even have a dress," I moaned, using my last resort argument. "There is no way I can find one in Forks, especially on such short notice." I wasn't going to confess to Renee that due to my latest shenanigans, I wasn't allowed to leave Forks until the school year was over. She could find out from Charlie, if he decided to sell me out.

"See, my child, that's why you have a mom who rocks. The dress, the shoes, and few other little things you might not think are necessary until you put them on and discover how cute they are—all if it is in the mail. You should get the package by tomorrow. I wanted to give you a heads up, I know you hate surprises."

"Oh," I made a stunned sound. I guess she _did_ win.

Renee giggled.

"Tell me, was Charlie in on this too?" I inquired when I found my voice again. Of course I was asking more out curiosity now. It was clear that they had conspired against me.

"Are you kidding?" she laughed. "Your father probably lost me at 'Hello, your daughter needs a dress for the prom'. He did contribute and promised to take pictures though."

I kicked the blanket down with my feet and sat up, pressing my fingers into my eyes with a grimace.

Seeing that I wasn't responding, she tried yet something else. "Honey, you will regret forever if you don't go. Not now, but I promise you, years later you will. Would you please think about it?

She was trying every trick in her bag to make me go, even though I had no date, hated the idea of dancing, and had no desire to have my looks scrutinized by other students.

I had a strong suspicion that as of late yesterday, I had lost any chance of having Charlie as my ally, so I'd have very little luck convincing him to let me off the hook. He'd do anything Renee asked as it was, and I bet she already made him promise her something else, like to be my personal chauffeur to the prom so I didn't skip town for the evening or something. It was going to be the most miserable night of my life. My happy-go-lucky mother could pretend all she wanted, but she knew nothing about a teenager's life, otherwise she'd never make me go through this agonizing experience.

"I'll think about it," I sighed into the phone, capitulating. "Thank you for the dress." Even miffed, I didn't want to come off as ungrateful, my mother always had good intentions, even if at the end of the paved road I was in a getup consisting of boots the color of baby poop or a dress circa Madonna 1986.

"Don't thank me until you see it. Oh, Bella, you're going to love it! It's kind of retro and has _pizzazz_," she gushed.

_Uh oh._ I did not like that promise. "Mom, _how much _pizzazz?" I pushed myself from the bed and got up.

"It's spectacular!"

Right, according to Renee's standards. I palmed my face; this prom was going to be a disaster.

"I have to run," she prompted without letting me object further. "Call me as soon as you get the dress. And it's not too late yet, who knows, maybe you'll get invited to prom. You still have a few days left."

"How did you know..?" I frowned.

"I'm your mother, I know these things," she said warmly. "We'd be having a completely different conversation today if you had a date. But you're my girl—strong and independent. Chin up! We don't need boys to feel good about ourselves."

_What about friends?_

But I didn't ask that out loud.

xxx

The day at school was exactly what I feared—miserable and lonely. It seemed that Jessica was hiding from me, though I wouldn't exactly say that I was roaming the halls looking for her either. I expected accusing looks and whispering behind my back, but even in my sleep-deprived, paranoid state I managed to relax a little after recess when I realized that Jessica hadn't told half of the school what a failure of a friend I was. And to be clear, I did feel like I failed her.

Angela seemed unsuspecting of my fallout with Jessica as well. She chatted with me as we walked into Bio and asked me if I wanted to go to see a movie with her and Ben. "You can invite someone to come with us, if you want to." She winked.

I stopped in my tracks. _What does she know?_

"What? I don't have anyone," I denied, feeling my tongue grow at least twice in size in my mouth. Angela was yet another person I was forced to lie to; it did not feel good.

"It was just a suggestion, Bella," she assured me. "You seem different lately. Dreamy. So I thought there might be someone… you know…" She smiled and nudged my shoulder.

"Oh," I laughed awkwardly, "no, I'm just tired. Been really busy with school."

The excuse I gave was so lame, no wonder Angela looked like she didn't believe me. I felt my cheeks flush, heated by my embarrassment, and I rushed to my desk without saying another word. I was smooth, real smooth.

xxx

When I arrived home in the late afternoon after finishing my job at the pet store, Charlie was already there, waiting for me.

"You're early," I observed, walking into the kitchen where he was sitting with his usual can of beer.

"I'm off today after the extra shift last night," he responded, scanning my face and my hands clasped together–I wasn't a picture of happiness and not masking it all that well. "You hungry?" he asked, shifting his eyes away from me and getting up.

"You cooking?"

"Might as well make myself useful while you change." He shrugged and opened the fridge.

"Don't go fancy just for me," I joked, making him snort.

We ate reheated lasagna in absolute silence. Though this probably was my last chance to bring up prom and try to argue my way out of attending it, somehow I didn't think it would produce the desired results. The town was too damn small, and my father probably didn't want people to talk about such blasphemy as his daughter skipping _the event_ _of the year_ for no apparent reason_._ My parents didn't want me to be a black sheep, so I became their white little lamb.

I didn't hate them, but I wasn't exactly fond of either of them at the moment. Before I festered that feeling into something more, I excused myself from the table and left for my room.

I had made some progress on the paper research. At least that was what I told myself after spending two hours clicking through different sites and skimming over the information without writing any of it down. _Real progress_. Charlie came to check up on me with an extremely guilty expression on his face.

"Dad, do you want me to bring my work downstairs and sit with you?" I asked after he knocked and walked into my room for the second time. "Clearly, you prefer to know what I'm doing," I grumbled, not even trying to hide my annoyance.

"I'm sorry, Bells, I just want to make sure you're okay." His face turned even more sour.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked, feigning surprise. "Do I not look like I'm okay?"

"You look like you could eat, sleep and possibly get out more. You're way too pale, kid."

"You're contradicting yourself," I argued, shaking my head. "You're the one who forbade me to leave the house or make calls."

"Don't exaggerate," Charlie protested weakly. "I asked you to finish the paper and not make long calls."

"And you haven't told me to stay put inside until I'm done?"

"_Are_ you done?"

"Argh!" I practically growled in frustration. "As soon as you stop interrupting my research!"

"I'll be going then…"

I nodded and turned back to the computer screen. A few seconds later, when I realized that he was still at the door, I shot him a 'why are you still here?' look. He awkwardly shifted from one foot to another, but didn't leave. Picking an invisible chip of paint off the door frame, he said, "I just wanted to know if you need a lift to prom."

So, I was right. Renee did talk Charlie into escorting me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Subtle, dad. Very subtle."

"I didn't know if anyone was taking you."

"Do you really care about this stuff or did mom put you up to it?"

"Give me a break, Bella, I'm trying here." Charlie huffed, looking irate and embarrassed all at the same time.

"If you want to know about my prom plans, you could just ask me, and I could tell you that I haven't made up my mind about it yet. For the record, I don't want to go, and no one is taking me. But if I end up going, I can drive myself."

I folded my arms across my chest, indicating that I was done with this discussion, when my phone vibrated on the table, moving closer to me. My heart lurched when I saw Edward's name on the screen.

"May I take this call?" I requested, barely holding off on acid in my tone, yet scared that my father would say no. I shifted my glance from the phone back to Charlie, trying really hard not to show how much I was afraid to miss this call. "Or am I not allowed? The paper _is not_ done," I challenged him and jutted my chin up choosing offense as my tactic.

The answer was a click of the closed door.

"Hello!" I said a little too loudly into the phone. I should be taking my temper down a notch; it wasn't Edward's fault that I felt like I was trapped in this house, trapped in a life I had no interest in.

"Bella," Edward said after a pause. "Are you okay? Did I call at a bad time?"

"No, no." I shook my head as if he could see me. "I'm fine." He didn't need to know about my high-school drama both at school and at home.

"Are you sure? The text yesterday—" He clearly didn't want to pry if I wasn't up to talking about it today, and I thoroughly appreciated it. But I had no one else to talk to, since I had failed to make any real friends in Forks.

"Jessica came by, said some unpleasant things," I shared, feeling infinitesimally better already. "Most of it is just gossip, not even worth repeating, but she believed it and it hurts, you know? I want to be above this crap, just let it roll off my shoulders, but at what cost? She was my friend, Edward. Forks is a small town, everyone is in everyone's business, and my prom is on Friday." I rambled, sniffing.

"Hang on, baby girl, try to calm down. Fuck. Do you want me to come over? It won't take me too long," Edward offered, and I had to bite my lip so I didn't start crying. The tears were really close.

"That's the thing. I can't even see you. My dad got mad yesterday, and I have this paper to finish. So he told me that I can't see you until I'm done with school. Basically not until after prom."

"Wait, he told you that you can't see me?" Edward sounded confused, if not terrified.

"Not you," I tried to sober up, because I wasn't making any sense and Edward was probably questioning what he was doing calling here and listening to me babble like a baby. "No going out in general."

I became silent, taking deep breaths to calm myself down.

"So, I won't see you for almost a week?" Edward seemed to be processing what I just said.

"Yeah, just about," I rasped. It was going to be hard.

"Well, maybe it's for the best," he muttered under his breath, but I was pretty sure that I heard him correctly.

"Edward?" I asked, afraid that this conversation was about to end.

"I'm here."

"Please just talk to me. Don't go."

"I won't," he assured me. "This is gonna be hard, Bella. Not to see you when you're so close."

"I'm not exactly close, am I?" I frowned, confused. "Where do you live, by the way?" Finally, a good opportunity to ask!

"Maple Grove. About thirty miles from you."

"Oh." I had never even heard of Maple Grove and was _so _going to look it up. "Is it a small town?"

"Yeah, real small, our house is kind of on the outskirts."

"You live with your siblings?" I couldn't suppress my curiosity.

"Yes, me, Alice and her boyfriend, and my brother Emmett with his family."

"Wow, you must have a lot of fun together." In a way I envied him; he had a big family living under one roof.

"Something like that," he muttered, not exactly agreeing with me.

"I understand, it probably gets loud sometimes," I guessed. "It's too quiet in our house. Will you tell me more about your family someday?" I asked him, hoping that I didn't sound too pushy.

"Someday," Edward murmured. "This Jessica, what did she say to you exactly?" He was deflecting, again. As expected.

"She was harsh and caught me off guard. I didn't know how to react," I told him glumly, my mood plummeting again. The details were embarrassing.

"She is a moron," Edward said with conviction.

"No, no, don't say that," I objected quickly. "I haven't been very kind to her. I actually think I deserved it."

"Bella, I have never met a more naïve, sweeter person in my life. Don't blame yourself."

"I can't help it," I said quietly, thinking that Edward, just like Jessica, would learn quickly how lonely, desperate, and boring I was; he had already met my snarky side.

"What did she want?" he insisted.

"She wanted me to quit my job." I cringed, remembering our painful argument.

"The one you haven't started yet?"

"Yeah."

"The hell? Why would she ask you to do something like that?" Edward's voice was hard, his tone almost interrogating.

"Um, she's afraid. There is someone she likes. She thinks…" I couldn't finish the sentence, feeling sick at the idea of ever being associated with Mike Newton in a romantic way.

"Bella," Edward said slowly, as if hearing my thoughts. "Is there a boy involved?"

"Yeah," I admitted in a whisper, although if it was possible, I wanted to never ever think about or face Mike again.

"Do you like him?" he asked, the words coming out strained.

"No, never," I answered firmly. "I think it's pretty clear by now that I'm not interested in boys."

"Excuse me?" Edward gasped. "What does that mean? Are you interested in girls?"

I laughed wholeheartedly, for first time today. "Wouldn't that be shocking?" I teased him. "_A man_, Edward, there is _one man_ who basically turned my world upside down." He surely knew by now who I was talking about.

"Not intentionally," Edward confided carefully. "And it's not too late."

As if there was a way back for me. Back where? I was sitting on the floor of my room, in the dark and completely alone. If I didn't have Edward and his calls, I had nothing else to look forward to.

"Not too late for what?" I asked him, afraid of the answer.

"For fixing the problem and turning your world back the way it was. It's quite simple, actually."

We both knew what that suggestion meant, and it wasn't acceptable, at least not for me. The feeling of hopelessness broke through my voice when I asked, "You could do that? Just pretend that we never knew each other and move on?"

"Not me. I'm too far gone." His dry laugh was haunting and soothing at the same time.

If it wasn't for the curfew enforced by my father, I would probably be already Googling 'Maple Grove' and quite possibly be on my way to look for Edward, because I was far too gone as well.

"Did you say something about prom?" he asked reminding me about yet another frustrating issue I had been dealing with.

"I'm kind of forced to go," I complained bleakly. "I tried, but it looks like there's no way to avoid it. My parents think it's a part of my growing-up experience."

"They kind of have a point."

"Et tu, Brute?" I asked in mocked exasperation, prompting Edward to chuckle.

"Easy there, girl. It's not like you've been handed a death sentence. It's supposed to be fun."

"Did you have fun at your prom?"

"Uh huh." Edward's non-committal answer piqued my interest.

"How was your date?" Like Charlie earlier, I didn't have guts to ask him directly if he had a date at his prom and what she was like.

"Who's yours, Bella?" Edward implored instead, and it was my turn to smile.

"I don't have one," I explained, trying to sound sad, yet having a feeling that this information didn't exactly upset Edward. "There is only one person I would accept as my date."

"Tell me," Edward demanded coarsely.

"Silly man," I breathed, smiling, as I remembered his words back at my truck yesterday. "Haven't you figured it out yet?"

Edward groaned. "Bella, please. I can't… This is insane. Why can't I see you?" His gruff voice reached deep inside me, stirring my need for him, making my breath shallow.

I gasped quietly several times, struggling to regain control of my instantly jumbled thoughts and trying to remind myself that being in my father's good graces for just a few days would go a long way. Just a little patience, and then I'd have the entire summer to myself and a lot of free time.

"You know why," I answered morosely, lowering my head to the table and placing my warm cheek on the cool, smooth surface.

"I know how selfish it sounds, but a week?" Listening to Edward's forlorn sighs I closed my eyes and drank in every sound coming from the other side of the phone. "I can't stand it."

"It's not selfish," I objected softly. "I'm not sure how to survive this time without seeing you either."

"If I start driving right now, and if I hurry, I can make it to Forks in less than twenty minutes," he suggested in a quick whisper. "Can you come up with an excuse to leave your house? Five minutes, Bella, please. I just want…" he didn't finish, I heard him moving around and breathing unevenly. He was probably smoking.

"Want what?" Anxious to hear his words, I raised my head and turned to the window. My shapeless, faceless reflection against the dark-blue space behind it stared back at me; somehow the evening shifted into night and I didn't even notice. The only light in the room was coming from the glowing monitor that was barely reaching beyond my notepad on the table.

"Just to see you, baby," Edward asked me in longing, low voice. "I miss your smell and your sweet face. Please, let me come see you."

I gasped again. My feet brought me up, across the room, and to the door. I was gripping the handle when I stopped myself, coming to my senses.

"Edward, please, don't torture me," I begged, forcing my steps back to my desk. "It's just a few days." That one was more for me.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry for pushing you," he backed off with a deep sigh. "You're right. I'll just have to endure."

"Just a few days," I repeated. Edward didn't answer.

"I better go." I glanced back at the door. Charlie could come up to check on me again any minute. "Can we please talk again tomorrow? Around this time?"

"Yes, I'd like that. I will call you, sweetheart." I could hear Edward smiling and it made my day. I had something to look forward to tomorrow.

xxx

Tuesday wasn't any better. School was abuzz about prom on Friday night, so to escape it, I spent my lunch alone at the library, taking more notes for my paper and emailing them to myself at the end of the hour. Maybe, if I finished working on that stupid paper earlier, Charlie would let me out of the house sooner.

In Trig, Jessica sat one table behind me, and it felt like she was breathing down my neck, reminding me every minute of that hour how much I hurt her. By her too loud laugh and deliberate attempts to ignore me I could tell that even though she kept pretending that I no longer mattered to her, she was as miserable as I was. But unless I was ready to tell her who was really on my mind, I didn't see how I could make Jessica believe me. Stupid Mike Newton, didn't he see how good my friend was for him? Maybe I could convince him to take her out when I started working at the store. I decided it was worth a try, even though it meant I would need to spend more time around him than I ever wanted to.

A large box waited for me on the steps of the house when I made it home that afternoon. The address with my name was written in round, childlike letters unmistakably belonging to Renee. I lifted it up, weighing it on my palms, as if the weight could tell me how far Renee had gone in her mission to dress me up. Sighing heavily, I brought the box inside.

Placing it on the coffee table in the living room, I sat in front of it without touching it. I wasn't sure what I was waiting for, the contents of the box wouldn't change or disappear—I just needed to face it.

I ate a sandwich, read a little, and watched some news on TV, occasionally eyeing the still unopened package. It was ridiculous how much I didn't want to open it.

Several hours later, when Charlie arrived home and dropped his shoes in the foyer, the phone rang.

"Bella, are you going to pick that up?"

Nope. I knew who was calling, and I was too busy watching the lady on the TV screen who wildly gesticulated while telling us about the weather forecast in Clallam County for the next three days. Partly cloudy tomorrow, a chance of precipitation on Thursday, and then sunny on Friday. _Fascinating stuff._

"Yes, Renee, it arrived. No, she hasn't opened it yet. Bells, are you going to check what's in the box? Your mother is dying to know how you like the dress."

Charlie's eyebrows flew up when he addressed me and he was smiling through his mustache. Renee's chatty, excited voice rang loudly through the phone in his hand, which was extended to me. I tried to shoot long, pointy-sharp daggers with my eyes in his direction, without answering him. _Traitor._

"Bella, come on, girl, I can't wait for you to see it." I could hear my mother cheering me on. These two had way too much fun at my expense.

I shook my head violently. As if I didn't know what to expect to find inside. _Pizzazz my ass._ If Charlie was so interested in it, he could go ahead and open the damn box.

"Hang on, your daughter is being especially stubborn tonight," Charlie informed Renee, chuckling, and placed the phone on the table next to the package. He took out the keys from his pocket and stabbed one through the tape, slicing the box open.

"There, done. Dig in, girl, all yours," Charlie invited me, not paying attention to my death glares, and picked up the phone again.

With a long sigh I stepped closer and peeked into the box.

"Renee says to get the large plastic bag out first," Charlie commented with my mom still chattering in his ear.

With no way out, I obediently did as I was told. Taking out the enormous, white plastic bag, I pulled the sides of it apart, forcing it to rip open. A bundle of shiny fabric spilled out, escaping from my hands and hitting the floor with a rustling sound as the dress unfolded at my feet. Just one look at the pink and sparkly material made my hand fly to my mouth. I had every reason to fear Renee's choice in fashion, because the dress was...

"Hideous!" I moaned into the pillow, wishing that Charlie would leave my room already, and take the box with the Dolly Parton dress with him. "I don't wear pink. Or sequins. What was she thinking?"

"She probably wasn't. She was hypnotized by those shiny thingies on it." Charlie tried to lighten my mood. I lifted my head off the pillow and glowered at him. "She said there is a matching purse that comes with the dress," he added.

"Are you, guys, trying to sabotage my youth?"

It was funny, so funny to my father.

"Right, go ahead," I said bitterly. "Laugh."

"Bells, I'm sorry. I won't deny that your mom overdid it."

"Again," I clarified, sitting up.

"I know," he agreed. "Always means well, our Renee. She was so excited, so fired up. It's not her fault that your taste is so different."

I snorted. Renee was well aware of it, but it never stopped her. I looked at my father; he held the box awkwardly in front of him, the stiff pink material sticking out the corners. He shoved it inside and placed it on the floor. Feeling extremely sorry for myself I asked him, "What's in it for you, dad? She doesn't live here, I do. You're supposed to be on my side."

Charlie averted his eyes, smiling apologetically, and that was my answer—Renee still had a spell on this man. Maybe someday he'd tell me why he had let her go, and why after all this time he still didn't.

I rubbed my face, wishing I could crawl under the blankets and not move for a while. Despite the dress fiasco, I missed my mom, I felt bad for upsetting my dad, and for acting like a brat towards both of them. For once, I wanted them in one house, together, as a family. Why couldn't I have a normal family? Why couldn't _I _be normal?

"I'm tired, dad." I kicked my shoes off and pulled the corner of the blanket over my feet, lying back down. Charlie nodded. He looked at me with his soft, sympathetic eyes. Seeing that look, I knew I needed to apologize, so I said, "I'm sorry if I hurt your, guys, feelings. I will call mom tomorrow when I'm hopefully less cranky and have a better perspective."

"You do that, kiddo. And maybe you can talk to your girlfriends and see what can be done about the dress. Don't give up."

_Girlfriends._

Shaking my head, I turned over on my bed. Burying my face down, I folded the pillow over my ears and mumbled into it, "Please let me be for a while. I'll get over it, I'll be fine."

Even if Charlie didn't hear what I said, he understood and left. I told myself that it wasn't the end of the world, and from where I stood, I had two choices. One was to convince Charlie to let me stay home and skip the whole shebang, the other—to go to the prom in jeans and my favorite pair of Converse. If I were to stand out, at least I'd be comfortable and myself. Didn't Renee tell me that I was strong and independent? I reminded myself of her words over and over until a thick cloud of exhaustion covered me and I fell asleep.

xxx

Groggy, almost in autopilot, I shuffled my feet to my desk and picked up the buzzing phone. Lord help me if it was my mother again. I squinted my eyes at the screen, and then quickly pressed "talk".

"I know I woke you up; I was afraid to call earlier," Edward prompted apologetically. "I've sent you couple of texts, but you didn't respond and I thought that you might be busy. Or couldn't talk."

"Edward," I rasped, sliding down the wall next to the bookshelves; my knees felt weak, I realized that I was shaking. "Edward, it's so good that you called."

"I was worried, B. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"No, I'm glad you did. I was having a nightmare." I remembered the dream involving Lauren laughing her ass off at my hideous prom dress while I stood in the middle of the gym that served as a dance floor. But it wasn't the pointing finger or the snickering kids around her who caused me break out in a cold sweat in my dream, it was Jessica, standing by the wall and looking at me blankly as if she didn't know me. It might be a rude reality in a few days, and I shuddered at the thought.

"Did someone upset you again?" Edward asked quietly, with an ominous tone to his voice.

"Do parents count?" I checked dully. Still sitting on the floor, I folded my legs and tilted to the side, leaning on the shelf. "I had an awful day," I admitted.

"You can talk to me about anything, Bella," he offered softly.

"Will you do the same?" I asked, my exhausted brain not capable of filtering or tip-toeing around. "I want to be there for you too."

"Things I don't tell you," he said slowly after a pause, "are not mine to share, Bella."

"Even about your family?"

"Especially about my family," he insisted coolly.

"All right," I accepted, seeing that we were at a dead-end and he was getting ticked off. It wasn't just my constantly heightened curiosity that drove me to keep asking Edward about his family. It was also a feeling of rejection that I couldn't get over. He wanted _me _to trust _him_, but couldn't pay me by the same token. Was he ashamed of me? It wasn't like I was asking him to introduce me to them.

"It's for the best, Bella," he said, sounding as if he was trying to protect me. Did he mean best _for me_? I had a hard time imagining what was so bad about Alice or Emmett that he didn't want to talk about them at all.

"I understand, Edward."

I didn't, but what else could I say?

"Do you want to tell me what happened with your parents?" He very obviously didn't want to talk about his family, I got it. "I hope your aren't in more trouble."

"No, I think it's the opposite," I chuckled humorlessly. "I received a prom dress today from my mom."

"Sounds exciting."

"It's as exciting to me as it is to you, believe me." The box was still sitting by the door where Charlie left it, and its fate was already decided. I remembered the three piles of clothes Jessica divided my outfits into when she came to my house for the first time. The contents of Renee's package definitely belonged to 'Burn' category, I smirked menacingly.

"That bad, huh?"

"The dress is horrid. Frills, sequins, and pink all over." I made a gagging sound. "Yes, it's _that _bad. I'm terrified to even try it on."

Edward didn't comment. He probably couldn't relate to my fashion-induced pain and suffering. I couldn't blame him, how could I? He was a guy.

With the phone still at my ear, I hugged myself tightly with my free hand and closed my eyes.

"What's worse is that my mom is upset that I hate it, and my father is between a rock and a hard place, trying to console us both. Obviously, with only couple of days left until Friday, it's too late to do something about it. I refuse to be the girl in the pinkest, brightest dress at prom, so I either won't go, or wear jeans." I sighed at the mockery my life had become. "I'm sorry for boring you with this travesty, Edward. I'm surprised you're still listening."

"No, no, you have no idea, Bella. This is actually rather refreshing. Normal. I miss that," he assured me warmly.

"Not the pink dress part, I hope," I teased him.

"Ha-ha," he said with a chuckle, "you're such a crack up. I'm definitely not a fan of pink. In fact, I'm banning that color from your wardrobe."

"Hey, my wardrobe, my choices," I protested jokingly. "Although this one is easy. Prom or no prom, you won't make Barbie out of me."

"Bella," Edward's tone turned suddenly serious. "Are you dead set against the idea of going?"

"I don't know, Edward. I feel cornered. My overzealous parents may totally ruin my summer if I don't go. I'm afraid they'll keep looking for ways to compensate for my lost opportunity with this stupid prom. I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to send me to some exciting band camp for a month or something equally awful. With Renee you can never predict what idea she'll come up with next."

I let out a stiff laugh and expected Edward to join me, instead he asked me very quietly, carefully, "Would you want to go away? Spend your summer somewhere else?"

The thought terrified me. "No!" I answered loudly, forgetting about my ever present fear of waking up Charlie. "I want to stay here." _With you,_ I added internally.

"Okay." Edward's breath whooshed out evident relief. "Then I have a plan. We'll get you a dress. But you have to keep an open mind, Bella."

_Oh no, more gifts? Please tell me there will be no more charity work for poor Bella._

Before I could object, he started talking fast. "Listen, baby. My sister Alice owns a boutique store in Port Angeles. She really has a vision for all things fashion and is doing very well. I can ask her to help you with the dress and anything else you need for Friday. She'll be thrilled."

Alice? As in Edward's sister, Alice?

"Mmhm," I asked, suddenly too excited to be coherent.

"You won't have to buy anything. I don't want to hurt your pride, Bella. I'll ask Alice to loan it to you."

That wasn't why I wasn't able to produce more than a single sound while Edward was offering to help. It was a total one eighty from what he was telling me earlier, and I was so stunned by the opportunity to meet his sister that I didn't even think about saying no.

Edward waited for me to respond, and the silence between us drug on for far too long. Realizing it, I made an effort to restart my brain and move my lips to say, "Yes, loaning it. Good idea. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I have the most selfish, the most ulterior motive ever in all this. Port Angeles means I can see you. I can…" he paused for a moment. "Tomorrow night, please, Bella." The grit in his voice held both a promise and a plea. It was so powerful, I felt the need to squeeze my thighs to control the ache.

"Yes, okay," I answered shakily, shifting on the floor uncomfortably. "After today's disaster, I don't think Charlie will be against me going somewhere to get another dress."

"Bella, I will see you tomorrow afternoon. I can't wait." Edward voice exuded elation.

Emotional, I choked out, "Me too."

"I will text you the address of the store. If you can't call me, text back. Please drive safely, my sweet girl. It will work out, you'll see."

"I trust you."

xxx

Unfortunately, my excitement didn't last too long.

The reality hit me over the head the next morning at breakfast.

"Bella, it's great that you found a store in Port Angeles with unbeatable deals. I guess the internet does have its uses." My father smiled genially, believing every word I said. Thank goodness I had practiced in front of the mirror earlier, otherwise he'd see right through me.

"I'm off at three today. I'll take you."

_Err… what?_

"Um, take me where?" Dumb question, I knew the answer but couldn't help myself from asking. I did not expect my father to offer to actually _shop_ with me.

"I'll drive you to Port Angeles, Bells, and I promise to be patient. I won't say a word while you get the dress of your dreams. I'll even pay for it."

"Dad, it's not like I'm getting married or anything. It's just a silly dress for a silly prom in Forks."

"It didn't seem silly to you yesterday."

_He has a point_, my scattered brain grudgingly agreed.

I grabbed my head in my hands as Charlie walked out of the kitchen. Could anything go my way, ever? Maybe it was a cop thing. Or some sort of a parental radar for illegal teenage activities? But I wasn't doing anything wrong! Borrowing a dress from the sister of my… _non-boyfriend_ wasn't a crime.

My thoughts changed to the 'non-boyfriend' topic. I was still confused about our status, and today was certainly not a good day to dwell on it. Like Scarlett O'Hara, I decided to think about it later. How perfectly shallow of me.

For now, I just hoped that in the next several hours I'd somehow come up with a good excuse for Charlie to let me go alone. In fact, I was so sure that I could change his mind I decided not to worry Edward prematurely by telling him about my father's plans. My issues with Jessica were pushed to the back of my mind. With the address of Alice's store and the time set to meet, I counted minutes until I got to Port Angeles. Every time I thought about seeing Edward again, my heart thrummed and I felt faint, dizzy with anticipation.

xxx

_**My father is coming with me to PA! We are already driving. What do I do? -B**_

_**What happened? –E**_

_**My guilt-ridden parent decided to shop with me. Prepare the rope for me upon my arrival –B**_

_**I need to talk to Alice. Don't panic. You'll have the dress –E**_

_**I don't care about the dress! –B**_

_**I will find the way to see you today even if it's just for a moment. It's better than nothing –E**_

"You sure talk a lot on that thing, kiddo."

"Unlimited texting, dad, remember?"

"What a concept."

Carefully hiding my exasperation, I attempted to lock my expression into a relaxed and neutral facade, although I doubted that it worked, so I turned away to study the wall of trees passing us by through the window of my truck. Charlie was driving us. Thank goodness it wasn't in his police cruiser.

The closer we got to the city, the more I panicked. Not only did I have no idea what to expect from my meeting with Alice, which made me a nervous wreck, but it was also going to happen in front of the watchful eye of my father. Would Edward be there? Would he be the one introducing us? Would I have to introduce him to Charlie?

I bit my lip, almost whimpering. If it wasn't for the close presence of my father, I'd probably start crying from feeling so overwhelmed and helpless.

_**It was a bad idea, E. I'm telling Charlie to turn around –B**_

_**What? Why? No. What's wrong? I'm calling you –E**_

_**Are you nuts? Don't! –B**_

_**Yes, I'm going absolutely nuts waiting for you. You're almost here. Don't take it away from me –E**_

These words made my heart pound wildly, and my hands were shaking. I sneaked a peek at my father; thankfully, he was looking straight ahead on the road, seemingly in his own thoughts. I leaned back on my seat, relaxed my shoulders and tucked one foot under my thigh in my favorite sitting position. Hoping that I'd done enough to appear calm and unambiguous, I continued my furious exchange with Edward.

_**Tell me how is it going to work? Alice. You. My dad. How? –B**_

_**Alice is expecting you and she can't wait. I'll be in the back –E**_

_**Stalking? –B**_

_**If that's what it takes –E**_

_**And my dad? –B**_

_**Alice is resourceful. She said he'll wander off in no time –E**_

_**What did you tell your sister, Edward? –B**_

_**You said you trust me –E**_

_**I do –B**_

_**Then stop worrying. Your face, in my hands, very soon. Breathe –E**_

Not after that text, I couldn't.

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know, how could I do this to you. Sorry! Want to guess what's coming next? **

**Thank you for reading, your reviews make a difference. Even if it's just a few words.**


	22. Chapter 20 Limerence & Ignorance

**A/N: Wow, there are sure a lot of us with vivid memories of our prom experiences. ****Hearing from you is the best thing in the world, thank you for supporting the story. **If you'd like to see what dress inspired the last chapter, you can find it in my blog, warning - the dress is NOT pretty! 

**My betas are amazing. Saluki168 and twitchling, thank you for spending hours with me and making my words prettier. **

**Dear Philadelphic, your comments are always right on! And dude, you blow my mind away every day. ****Oh, and AngryBadgerGirl, you can deny it all you want, but I think you're warm and fuzzy, thank you for pre-reading! You weren't voted the best pimp in fanfiction world for nothing :)**

**Disclamer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

**Limerence & Ignorance**

_**Limerence**__ is a cognitive and emotional state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings but not primarily for a sexual relationship (although it can further intensify the situation)._

xxx

_**BPOV**_

"Dad, are you sure you want to hang out there while I shop?" I asked Charlie as we started our walk down 1st street. I was surprised by the amount of people swirling around us, going in and out of various stores, and it wasn't even five o'clock in the afternoon. Didn't anyone work in this town?

"It's just one store, Bells, right?" Charlie looked at me warily, biting on his twitching mustache. Judging by the way he was nervously rubbing the back of his neck, I figured that I could crack his resolve; he just needed a little push in the right direction.

"I don't know." I shrugged while drawing out the words slowly, as if I was considering my options. "We are already there, and if nothing works at that store, I might want to go to a few other places."

Charlie visibly shuddered and glanced from side to side. Being in the heart of the street mall, and blessed with a dry day, we were surrounded not only by goods in the window displays, but also by colorful samples on the racks outside. Charlie looked out of place and extremely uncomfortable walking along the abundance of merchandise, among the chattery and active crowd. He thought about my words for a moment, his shifty eyes and set jaw indicated the internal battle he was fighting—the small-towner in a strange place against the dutiful parent. With an inward groan, I could see who was winning.

"It's okay, kid, I told you that I'd help. My job should be very easy—I'll be your wallet today, since I can't be helpful in fashion department."

All hope to keep Charlie away from meeting Alice, and possibly Edward, lost, I grudgingly accepted my fate. "You and mom both," I grumbled.

"I'll stay out of it," he vowed, laughing. "While you're choosing your dress you won't hear a peep from me."

"Well, there's that."

My feet were dancing at their own command, tapping out an anxious beat. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to hurry up and get to the store or run away.

"Bella," Charlie called. "Remember what you told me? This is just a silly dress for a silly prom."

"Now you're agreeing with me." I smiled weakly.

"I'm a quick learner," he chuckled. "I propose we go in, ask for the most knowledgeable in prom dresses sales-lady, get something you like and get out. Make it painless for both of us."

With a click of my tongue, I cocked my index fingers, imitating pistols pointed up. "Brilliant plan, dad. As always."

"You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"A little," I admitted, smirking.

I felt a little better, lighter. It couldn't be that bad. Edward knew what he was doing—he told me so—and I trusted him. He wouldn't let anything disastrous or humiliating happen to me in that store.

With somewhat renewed confidence, I proceeded to walk down the street with Charlie striding beside me.

"Ali's Wits Boutique" was perched at the corner of a small street off 2nd street and I instantly loved both the quiet location and the inviting entrance. The cobalt-blue door of the store was wide open, and the crisp-white sheer attached to the head of the frame fluttered gently in the air, welcoming us in.

My heart hammered in my chest when I carefully moved the white sheer aside and stepped into the store, immediately looking around. Charlie quietly followed me, and if I didn't know better, I would think he was hiding behind my back.

I quickly scanned the room. There was no sign of Edward, and I exhaled in relief–or was it disappointment?

I took in the room – it had light hardwood flooring, a high ceiling with several lighting tracks that looked like tree branches, and an accent wall on my right was painted in a vibrant blue, which matched the color of the entrance door. There were several mannequins placed around the room, dressed in vintage-looking outfits. Large chests, open trunks, and door-less cupboards showcasing jewelry, hats and more clothes were strategically installed by the side of the walls, making the room feel open and full of air. I noted that art frames of various sizes covered the walls, and a small table with two Louis-style chairs was stationed on our left by the window, capturing the natural light shining in. This corner was the only place in the room that had a rug on the floor, helping to create a cozy atmosphere. I could tell that every single piece of furniture was handpicked and cared for; every detail was well-thought out behind the clever and chic design of the place.

Something moved in my peripheral vision and I spotted a girl at the back of the store. She was standing on a step-stool while placing something on the top shelf of a tall, airy-looking piece of furniture that reminded me of a china cabinet, except, instead of dishes, it had purses and shoes inside.

We made a few steps further inside and Charlie attempted a gentle cough, most likely to attract the girl's attention, because I seemed to lose my voice. The girl swiftly turned to us and smiled widely, softly jumping down. I stiffened as she started approaching us. She wasn't very tall, hence the need for the step stool, and was kind of chubby with short dark-red hair. Was it Alice?

"Hello, how may I help you?" she greeted us brightly.

_Uh, what do I say? _As I was quickly realizing, I was completely unprepared to answer that question_._

I momentarily regretted coming here and made a step back, promptly elbowing my father in the gut. He grunted at the contact, making an unintelligible sound of displeasure, which spurred me further into panic. Almost hyperventilating, I shook my head so hard it felt like it was about to become unhinged.

"I think we are in the wrong place," I squeaked out, ready to bolt, while my father got a firm hold of my offending elbow, preventing me from any additional movement.

"Bells, don't chicken out on me," he urged me in a whisper. "Miss," he stepped forward and addressed the girl louder, "we'd like to see your prom dresses and… the works. We heard you're having a great sale today."

"You need a dress for a special occasion? Of course! You're in the right place!" The girl flailed her arms in an inviting gesture, stopping next to us. "Please do come in, we certainly have several unique collections to choose from," she assured us enthusiastically.

_Where is Edward? Will he even show up?_

Apprehensive and confused, I gripped my oversized purse, holding it in front of me like a shield. Since Edward's sister was all about fashion, I wanted to make the right impression on her, so, in my attempt to look nicer, like a real-deal girl, I ditched my usual backpack and black Converse today, opting for blue strappy shoes on a low platform. I still went for jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt for comfort, but there were no printed statements on the front or back.

"Did you mention something about us having a great sale, sir?" the girl asked my father in a careful tone. "Where did you hear about that?"

_Here comes trouble_. Of course there was no sale. I knew it, and the girl talking to us knew that too.

Did Edward not have a chance to warn Alice? He said he did! _Damn it, Edward, where are you? Don't let your sister set me up here, even if unknowingly!_

Charlie, seeing that I was mum as a rock, piped in, pointing at me, "My daughter found you on the internet. I think." His quizzical look told me that he wasn't exactly buying my story anymore. He frowned.

_I am doomed to hell._

"Of course there is a sale today!" A musical voice entered the room.

_And I'm saved._

Another girl appeared out of nowhere and strolled swiftly toward us. She turned to her co-worker, "Thank you, Vera, I'll take it from here." Vera nodded, smiling at us, and moved back to work on the display she was tending to earlier.

For a moment I thought this new girl was going to hug me—she leaned into me—but then she held back.

_Alice. It _is_ Alice this time, right?_ We looked directly at each other, quietly appraising each other. I couldn't help it as I took my time to take her features in. She had a small frame, short black hair, and high cheek bones—nothing indicative that she shared the same genes with Edward. But then she smiled at us. A big, warm grin lit up her face, reminding me of Edward so much that my heart ached, and I knew then that I was absolutely correct—the girl standing before us was Edward's sister.

"Hi, I'm Alice, the owner of the store," she confirmed my thoughts as she turned to Charlie. She offered her hand while he appeared somewhat dazed.

_Ha! Alice has the same dazzling effect on the opposite sex as her brother,_ I softly chuckled to myself.

Charlie blinked a few times, awkwardly shoved his hand to shake Alice's and mumbled, "I'm Charlie. Nice to… Uh, yes, very nice…"

Watching him, I no longer questioned why he remained single to this day. My father was a lost cause where his slick, flirting skills where concerned. Not that I ever wanted him to flirt with the sister of my… crush of undefined status who was mysteriously missing from the scene.

"It's certainly nice to meet you, Charlie." Alice's grin grew wider; she turned back to me, her eye made a quick wink. I minutely relaxed and gave Alice a small, hopeful smile in return. If I knew anything about Edward, and if his sister was anything like him, there was a plan she was following, and it was unfolding right before my eyes. The question was—did I have a role assigned to me as well or was I supposed to be a mere spectator here? _We shall see._

"Let's see here," Alice hooked her arm under mine, leading me away from Charlie, and acting like she had known me forever. Her hold was firm and re-assuring and, uncharacteristically for me, I didn't feel like shying away. "How would you like to do this? Would you like to browse around and chose a few dresses on your own? Or would you rather I pick a few options for you to try on?"

Before I could answer, she looked back at Charlie, who was still at the same spot we left him, standing out like a sore thumb. This place certainly wasn't becoming him. I couldn't say that I felt a lot different, but at least Alice appeared to be nice and attentive.

"Charlie," she called out cheerfully, "would you like to help us to choose the dress?"

My father couldn't have looked more terrified. "No, no, you're the professional, go ahead."

"Alrighty then." Alice folded her hands as if in a prayer and slightly bowed to him. "Why don't you sit down and relax, sir?" She addressed my father again in a sweet voice. "We're most likely going to be a while. I hope your father is a patient man." The last phrase, said in expressly loud manner, was meant for me. Her words were serious, but she had that special crooked, mischievous smile that reminding me of Edward's again, and I needn't question her intentions—she had a certain strategy and was putting on quite a show.

"Uh, not so much when it comes to shopping for clothes," Charlie interjected with the roll of his eyes.

"I feel for you. Going over a myriad of outfits, picking the right style and size, dressing, undressing, and starting all over. Bo-o-oring, isn't it, Charlie?" Alice sing-songed, nodding in full agreement with him. Charlie grunted, looking thoroughly tortured. "Well, to make the wait easier for you, you can check out that stack of magazines on the table. They're mostly about fashion and gossip, but it's all good entertainment." The trilling effect in her tone multiplied, and she batted her lashes at him. I watched her in awe. Alice was a siren, whose enchanting voice and beguiling looks clearly had a dumbing affect on my inexperienced father. Hell, I felt like sitting down and starting to read those magazines myself.

"Bells, are you sure you need me here?" Charlie asked me, panic emanating from his figure. He was at the door and his hand was moving away the white sheer separating him from freedom before I had a chance to respond. "Actually, I just remembered that there is a fishing supply store around here."

Alice and I glanced at each other.

"Are you sure you don't want some chamomile tea or coffee, sir? Unfortunately, we only carry decaf." She sighed theatrically. "Oh, and my Vera here makes the best pies ever. Would you like a slice of the _Cherry Clafoutis_ she baked for us this morning?" Alice's French was impeccable, at least to my ear. My father apparently didn't think so. Actually, I couldn't really tell what exactly he thought because by the time I overcame the inappropriate fit of giggles and stopped looking at Alice, I realized that he was already gone. If we were in a cartoon, his swift departure would be accompanied by a whistling sound and there would be a Charlie-shaped cloud left in the spot where he stood just a moment before.

I barely resisted giving Alice a high-five. The girl had skills.

"Damn, I'm good," Alice murmured, turning to me, and snickered, seeing that I found it no less amusing. "So, _Bella..._" She arched her eyebrow addressing me, not leaving any doubt that she was fully aware of who I was.

"Quite a day, huh?" she asked sympathetically.

I blushed, biting my lip, and looked around the store again, instantly remembering about Edward. He still was a no show, and Vera continued to futz around at the same china cabinet. I wasn't sure what kind of response Alice expected to hear from me.

She seemed to be contemplating something, looking thoughtfully away while chewing on her thumb. "Well," she finally said, focusing her eyes on me briefly, "first things first." She turned on her heels and started walking towards Vera.

Was I supposed to follow her? I was utterly lost.

"Come, Bella." She stopped and beckoned me with her index finger. "We have job to do, remember? The dressing area is in the back of the room, behind the drapes over there." She motioned her head to where I was apparently expected to go. "Why don't you get in and wait for a few minutes while I pick some choices out for you?" she suggested softly, basically sending me off.

That was it? She wasn't going to talk to me or ask any questions? How about my chance to get to know her better? Regardless of what I wanted, Alice seemed to be following her own agenda, and it didn't look like she was going to mention Edward, make any indication that he was around, or whether I even would see him any time soon.

"Sure," I reluctantly agreed, although I could care less about trying on dresses. In fact, it was the last thing on my mind. There was no point of me being here if I couldn't see Edward or talk to Alice.

"Don't worry, we don't bite," she joked. "And the dresses I have in my store are ridiculously awesome." She darted her eyes to Vera, gave me a curt nod, and still smiling, nudged me forward. "Straight ahead and to your left, Bella, I'll be with you shortly."

Disappointment kept growing in my chest as I dragged my feet to the back of the store towards the dressing room, cursing the moment I agreed to this torture. Charlie could come back any minute, while I was about to endure the agony of dressing up. What a waste. I stumbled forward, almost knocking down one of the mannequins and mumbled an apology —I was obviously losing it. My face went red again at the realization of how stupidly I was acting, I glanced back to see if anyone noticed my loony behavior. Alice was perusing through the drawers of one of the cabinets, and Vera moved to the counter, busy writing something down; neither of them was looking at me. With a sigh, I turned back, deciding to pay more attention to were I was going. The drapes of the dressing room were already in full view in front of me. Once I'd made it inside, I was planning on allowing myself to sit and wallow over my ruined day for a few minutes.

But I didn't make it.

Only a few steps away from my destination, I was yanked to the side, and before I could understand what was happening, I was inside another room, pinned to the wall.

In a delayed reaction, I yelped and tried to jerk away from the hold without success. I opened my mouth, meaning to scream, but a warm hand quickly muffled it, stopping me.

"Bella, sh-sh-sh, baby, it's me," a familiar voice whispered feverishly into my ear. I stilled, focused my vision, and immediately recognized the wild, green eyes staring at me, and the beautiful mouth, which smiled at me apologetically and repeated, "It's just me, B."

I immediately relaxed and nodded. The same hand that was just over my mouth grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me further inside a poorly lit room that appeared to be full of shelves and boxes. We stopped behind a tall stack of them, safely hidden from any spectators.

Without saying another word, Edward gripped me by my hips and shuffled us to the wall, where he raised his arms up and took my face in his hands, just like he had promised earlier. He kept looking at me, silently, his stare smoldering. I stared back, studying him unabashedly. Three days, it had only been three days, but maybe because I counted every minute of our time apart, it felt like I hadn't seen him in ages, and I couldn't get enough of him. I vaguely heard voices and recognized Vera greeting some new customers. Life outside this room was going on, while time here completely stopped.

Edward stepped another inch closer to me and spread his feet on both sides of mine; his knees touched my thighs, trapping them. He leaned into me and inhaled deeply, as his lips brushed slowly against the skin right above my left eyebrow and then moved to my temple. He tilted his head back to look at me; the hunger in his eyes was so feral, consuming, it made my knees grow weak. Edward slid his hands to my neck, tangling his fingers in my hair, while his thumbs began to slowly caress the sides of my jaw, moving in light strokes to my chin, skimming over my lower lip, and then down again to the line of my jaw. These deliberate, exploring touches were sending hot, wild waves of lust through my body, tightening the muscles in the pit of my stomach. Afraid to interrupt the perfect moment, I stayed silent too, letting my eyes, my rapid breathing, and my tensed body speak for me.

I was completely surrounded by Edward, yet he wasn't entirely in contact with me. I wanted to feel his chest against mine, and yes… if I were so bold, I would have raised myself up to have my hips meet his. I wanted to feel him, all of him, and just the idea of it was so maddening I could barely keep myself from pushing myself at him. I wanted closeness with Edward more than anything, but I _wasn't _bold enough, and the thought of being too forward and turning him away terrified me.

My legs were trembling, and my heart beat so wildly that I was pretty sure it was going to jump out of my chest. His burning lips and insistent fingers grew more urgent on my skin, driving me absolutely insane. Taken by an overwhelming need to touch him too, I brought my hands to his arms, reveling in the warmth of his skin under my palms.

"Bella," Edward breathed my name fervently into my ear. That one word reverberated through me, sending my blood coursing through my veins, debilitating and elating me at the same time.

"Yes," I begged. The air between us seemed to vibrate with intensity; we were both shaking.

"I swear, nothing ever—" he spoke, but the rest of the promise, spilled in a whisper, was lost when he pressed his lips into my hair. The strangest feeling washed over me. It was as if he was trying to convey a secret which he couldn't actually tell me, or as if he was casting some protective spell, vowing to be my personal safeguard. Whatever it was, it sent me into a new level of frenzy.

I shifted my hips and moved my hands up, circling them around his neck, wishing to be closer, to show him how much I needed it. But as soon as I reached up to him, seeking more contact, he stiffened, his expression pained. He took a quick, deep breath, steadying himself on his feet, no longer leaning into me.

"Why?" I moaned and knotted my fingers, tugging at his hair as I realized that the gap between our bodies—the one that I was so desperate to close in on—grew bigger. I wanted his lips back on me. I wanted him to kiss me and not just on the cheek. It had to be him. I couldn't imagine anyone but Edward being my first kiss.

"Oh my god, Bella, I want to," he groaned, understanding the meaning of my question. He shook his head, "But not like this." His eyes lingered on my lips before moving up to meet my eyes—the yearning and torment I saw there made me gasp. He withdrew his hands from me, extracting himself from me completely. I dropped my hands, groaned in frustration and disappointment, and pushed myself away from the wall. I was trying not to look at him.

"Bella." He blocked me, not letting me go and lifting my chin with his fingers. "Look at me, please," he implored softly.

With my lip painfully locked between my teeth, I glanced at him and shifted my gaze away again.

"No, Bella, please, look at me, I'm right here," he asked once more, gently prying with his thumb to release my lip. His bright green eyes were boring into mine when he said, "Please listen. When I kiss you for the first time, it will not be stolen in some stockroom. I will not be stealing anything from you, my sweet girl, even if it's just one kiss."

An indescribable emotion swelled in my chest. Edward's words only stirred my need for him deeper.

"It doesn't matter where we are, Edward, as long as it's with you." I was frightened by the conviction in my own low voice, but I meant every word and wasn't going to take them back. "I am giving it to you, it's yours."

I heard Edward's breath hitch. His eyes darkened, instantly hooded, as he stepped closer to me again. He wrapped his fingers around my shoulders, pulling me to him, and lowered his head to my face, hungrily inhaling next to my cheek. That made me lose all train of thought and I instinctively tilted my head to feel his touch against my skin.

Another step and I was pressed to the wall with my palms feeling the rough paint behind me. I wanted this. I asked for it, and I had no idea what I was doing.

"Mine?" Grazing his lips across my cheek, he traced a searing line from my earlobe, stopping at the corner of my mouth. "Right now?" He whispered the question into my parted lips, and I was instantly sinking, enthralled by his smell. His breath was sweet and minty, with a hint of smoke. He backed away to look at me again, and I nodded, searching his eyes, begging him wordlessly to take action.

"Tell me this is what you want." Now it was Edward who was pleading. With triumph, I realized that he needed me as badly as I needed him. I was so close. I was afraid to make one wrong move and scare him away.

His nose skimmed over my chin and then up to my mouth. "Say it, Bella," he rasped.

My response wasn't exactly what he was asking for—I whimpered. Edward inhaled the breath I just released, and even in my haze I registered the sense of relish and excitement crossing his features.

"Edward," I moaned, turning to meet his mouth. His lips crushed against mine, not letting me finish. With one hand holding me by the nape of my neck, he moved the other down and cupped my butt, pressing our hips together. I lifted my arms and pushed my fingers into his hair, gripping onto him as firmly as I could, trying to deepen our kiss. I had no clue what I was doing, but kissing Edward felt so natural, so right. With a groan, he ground himself against me, opening his mouth, fitting it perfectly over mine, and I was dizzy, dizzy, dizzy. There was no air, just Edward engulfing me. I didn't need to breathe. I needed him. And this kiss—his taste and his heat. Just Edward and this all consuming feeling of being desired. I wanted this kiss to last forever.

"Edward!"

We broke away, breathing heavily. Edward didn't let go of me, still cradling my head in his hand, he brought the other hand higher and began drawing caressing circles over the small of my back, eliciting a quiet moan from me. He sighed and brought his forehead to mine. I hugged him tightly and buried my face into his chest. Why couldn't we stay here, in this warm, dimly lit room, wrapped in our own world?

"Edward, I sent Vera away, but don't forget about Bella's father. You're going to get her in trouble," the voice of the reason named Alice spoke from around the shelves.

"I don't want to let you go," he murmured. "But Alice is right."

I nodded into his chest.

"I'm coming in!" Alice warned.

I looked up at Edward, and he chuckled. "Oh, she means it. Go, or she'll drag you out of here. I know my sister."

"You go first." Like I was going to willingly give myself up to his admittedly violent sister. Besides, what was I supposed to say to Alice when I came out of her stockroom? "Oh, hi, I got lost"?

"So not a good idea." Edward raked his hand through his hair and glanced at me. He sighed. "I'm very sorry for putting you in this position, Bella."

"I don't regret it," I said quickly.

A glorious smile lit his face. "Okay, beautiful. I'll go out first, and I will see you again soon." His eyes danced across my face, and as he brought his hand to my cheek, his thumb softly circled over my mouth, stopping at my lower lip. I smiled, responding to the sweet touch. He leaned forward, his lips lightly pressed to mine, and whispered reverently, "Mine." He kissed me tenderly once more, breathing me in, and I was getting dizzy all over again.

Were we supposed to go somewhere? Why?

"Edward, dammit!" Alice generously reminded me.

Edward snapped up, found my fingers, and quickly squeezed them, while giving me an encouraging nod. A moment later, I was standing alone behind a bank of boxes, still reeling and trying to catch my breath.

"Where is Bella?" Alice's voice demanded outside. "She is not in the dressing room."

"Relax, Al, she needed to use the restroom. She'll be out in a minute."

Edward artfully managed to save my dignity while avoiding giving even a hint about what the two of us were to each other. I wasn't sure how to feel about his evasiveness with his own sister, but now wasn't a good time to think about it. I touched my lips and smiled.

I spotted the door to the bathroom in the corner of the room. After splashing my face with cold water several times, I checked myself in the mirror, admiring the girl who stared at me in the reflection—inflamed cheeks, haystack of hair, and wild spark in her eyes. I paused to study my smiling mouth. Edward kissed me... Edward was my first kiss... I dreamt about it without much hope for weeks, and my wish was finally granted. My smile grew wider—no need to worry about the small stuff. Charlie, dresses, prom. _Bring it!_

I walked out of the back room and waved to Alice, who was talking to someone on the phone. She moved it to her shoulder and smiled, pointing to the fitting room. "The dresses are inside."

I glanced around, searching for Edward, who appeared to be occupied by changing a bulb in one of the lamps. Alice followed my gaze, a small knowing smile played on her face. She suspected something—that was for sure.

I walked into the fitting room and closed the drapes behind me. Four dresses on hangers were waiting for me on the wall, each one prettier than the other, and I immediately felt intimidated. I checked the tag on one of them and gasped. It was close to six hundred dollars. The other one wasn't a lot cheaper—over five hundred. We couldn't afford any of that, and obviously, with Charlie involved, the loaning option was no longer available because I didn't even mention it to him before. I clearly hadn't thought this through and was about to pay dearly for it. And literally.

I sat down on the bench, deflated; there was no point even trying those dresses on.

"Bella, how are you doing? Any luck?" Alice asked me.

I opened the curtain, still fully dressed in my own clothes. "I have nothing to show you, Alice. Thank you for your help, but none of them would work."

Her face fell. "You didn't like any of them?"

"Oh, no! They're beautiful. Really."

"If they are not your style, I have plenty others. Let's go take a look together," Alice offered. "I'm sure we can find something to your liking."

Her insistence made me feel even worse. "I liked them all, I promise. I'm sorry. It's not that. I need to go, Alice, I'm… I'm sorry." I looked around, frazzled, somehow remembering that I had had a purse with me at some point. I had no idea where it went; I probably dropped it in the stockroom. _Great._

Alice looked at me pensively. "You haven't tried on any of them, have you?"

The replica of _Dali's _painting on the wall–the swans' necks and wings transformed into elephants' trunks and ears when reflected on the pond—held my rapt attention for a while. I mean, I had always loved _Dali_. It was nice that Alice and I shared the same taste in art.

"Chicken."

I quickly turned to face Alice. "Excuse me?" I wasn't going to pretend that I didn't hear her.

"You're scared of going out of your comfort zone, Bella. Admit it." Alice narrowed her eyes at me.

I heard Edward choking on something behind me.

"I'm not scared of anything!" I hissed, and if I wasn't red enough before, between me and a beet, I could probably take the prize now. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do this for a living, of course I know what I'm talking about." Alice smiled.

"Sure," I agreed, feeling defeated but not wiling to show it. "Is kicking your customers asses while they drop major money here also part of your service?"

I grumbled under my breath at seeing how amusing both Alice and Edward found my response. Alice liked it so much, she was wiping away tears after she was finishing laughing. "Very much so, Bella. And believe me, my clients love every minute of it, and so will you after we are done here," she said while hugging me by my shoulder and leading me back to the dressing room–her hold was surprisingly strong. "Now, girlfriend, let's talk serious business."

I looked back at Edward, who was busy pretending that one of the shelves needed an adjustment. I rolled my eyes, _Coward_.

"So, Bella, when is your prom? Seems kind of late for it," Alice asked, distracting me.

"Day after tomorrow. They pushed it back by a week because there was a flood in the gym, which is the only indoor place in town suitable for such events."

"So, technically, you should have had your dress a week ago."

"I wasn't going to go."

"Why? Seems like everyone—"

"I know, I know," I interrupted her, aggravated by how much Alice sounded like Renee at that moment. "Dresses, dates, spiked punch—every girl's dream."

"Not yours?"

I shrugged without answering. We were back in the dressing room; Alice peeked outside, probably to look at Edward and lowered her voice. "No date?"

I blushed.

"I hear there was a dress, though." Alice smiled with empathy, dropping the date topic.

"Please don't bring up that nightmare again," I groaned.

"What was it like?" Alice wanted the details about the outfit that should have belonged to the 'The ugliest dress of the year' category, but through sheer luck came to belong to me? _Sure._

"Have you ever seen the pictures of the little girls all dolled up for beauty pageants? The frills, embroidered roses, complete with a bow on the shoulder and sparkles?" Alice's eyes widened in mock horror, and she was shaking her head, chuckling. "I know, funny. But yeah, that's my mother's dream dress for me—the more the sequins and frills, the better. "

Alice started to laugh. "I take it you're not a big fan of _grandeur_?"

I cringed, remembering the dress again, and my awkward conversation with Renee this morning. She was still cross with me, even after my heartfelt apology and a promise that I was going to attend the prom.

"Well, Bella, I'll do my best to wipe that memory from your brain. You are going to be gorgeous. Oh, and by the way, did Edward remind you that the dress has to be returned here after prom? Please, try not to spill any punch on it." She winked.

How easily she made me feel adequate again and resolved one major dilemma for me. One, but not all. "My father, though, what do I tell him?" I asked her, still worried.

"That's easy. I'll take care of it," Alice waved me off.

Relief and deep appreciation washed over me. "Thank you, Alice."

"Don't mention it. My own prom wasn't anything special, so, allow me to vicariously re-live that event through you. Just promise me that you'll have fun and tell me everything about it."

"Not sure about fun, but alright." I liked Alice more and more, and the prospect of seeing her again made my mood brighter.

"Let's start with this one." She pointed to the dress on the handle. It was deep green, and looked very form-fitting. "I don't think it will work for you, but indulge me. I love to experiment, and you've got the legs and the complexion to accentuate this dress."

Alice was right, the dress wasn't working for me. It was too tight and too short, with a cut too deep in the front.

"How is it, Bella?" Alice asked me in a loud voice from the outside.

"Um, not great," I mumbled, having no desire to show the result. "But I like the color. I'll try another one." I was eager to get that outfit off.

"Wait, wait," Alice unceremoniously flipped the drape open. "Come out, I want to see it."

"I don't think so, Alice," I started protesting, but Alice was already inside, dragging me out.

"I want to see it under the natural light. This color does look great against your skin!" she exclaimed immediately after pushing me to stand practically in the middle of the store. "Walk for me here," she requested, gesturing in front of her.

I wasn't exactly the supermodel type to flaunt something gorgeous, but so not my style before strangers. But seeing Alice's excitement, I decided I was game. I sashayed barefoot on the straight line of the imaginary podium, keeping my head high and doing my best cat-walk and lip-pout. Alice clapped her hands and yelled, "You go, Bella!"

It felt good at that moment, even though I was completely out of my element. I didn't forget about the presence of the one person whose opinion, if I were honest with myself, mattered the most to me. Edward's burning gaze followed me as I walked. Did he like the dress? Did he like _me_ in the dress?

I almost tripped when I heard a knock on the window, the cheering whistles, and "Nice rack!" from two guys who smashed their noses against the glass to look inside. Within a split moment, Edward was standing in front of me, covering me from the punk onlookers. I didn't think I had a chance to blink when he practically lifted me off my feet and carried me back to the dressing room.

"I need you to wait here for a minute," he growled, shooting the drapes closed and leaving me standing stunned inside the room.

"What the hell, Edward?" Alice's hissing voice sounded off not even a second a later.

"Alice, I'm warning you," I heard Edward's hushed words spitting back. "You're having too much fun."

"So what? Bella wasn't complaining," she protested, huffing.

I really wasn't—I smiled to myself—it _was _fun, although short-lived.

"I said forget it," Edward's angry whisper countered. "_That_ dress with _that_ cleavage won't do."

"First off, it's not cleavage, it's called décolleté. Second, you know nothing about style and how to show off a woman's curves in the right way."

"I'll tell you what I know. It's her prom, and she is going alone. I'm not sending Bella there in a dress like that."

"You're not _sending_ her?" Alice mocked him. "Interesting choice of words. Then why is she going alone? How did you two meet, by the way?"

I froze behind the curtain and held my breath dying to hear Edward's version of the events, but his response quickly disappointed. "Alice, you promised to help and not ask any questions, remember? The less you know the better you sleep."

"Oh that's right, Edward. How could I forget your modus operandi: you decide what's best for everyone, and expect us to follow. How about you..."

"Alice, please tone it down, we are not alone," Edward interrupted her. It sounded as if they were moving farther away from the dressing room.

"Oh, I keep quiet enough." Although Alice did lower her voice, I could still hear her. Whatever she meant, I had a feeling that she wasn't talking about me possibly hearing them anymore—it was deeper then that. If I had contemplated reappearing before that, it seemed that it would be better if I stayed put for now. "Do I need to remind you," she said, "that you asked for _my_ help? You need me because, hey—newsflash!—you're completely clueless about girls and proms. And you know what, I _do_ have more questions. But since I can't ask _you_, I'll see what I can do to find out on my own."

"Alice, no."

"Do you want my help or not?"

Crickets.

"Yeah, I thought so. Out! And don't look at me like that. This is _my_ store, the one place where I have a say. Out, before I find an escort for Bella to her prom, since it doesn't look like you are going with her."

I heard Edward gasp.

"Yeah, not so pushy now, are you? Good."

"I'll be in the back."

"Where you belong."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Alice's voice was coming and going, she seemed to be moving around the store. "Get out of here before Bella's father makes his appearance again. Thanks to you, we've made almost zero progress in the last half an hour."

She was close again. Trying to move as fast as possible, I frantically started pulling the constricting green dress off so I could put on the next one. I tugged it off the handle, bunching it with my shaky fingers, and hastily pushed myself into it before Alice could come in again and find me unchanged, which would only prove that I had been busy with nothing but eavesdropping.

"Bella, forget about those dresses. My ass of a brother ruined all the fun for us. I have two others here that I'm positive will work for you."

Still only half-dressed, I stuck my head out, covering the rest of my body with the drape.

"I already figured out your style." Alice handed me the dresses. "Try this one first. I like it because it's delicate yet simple, and the pockets here make it a little more casual. Something tells me that it's what you're more after."

The dress had an open shoulder cut and I eyed it warily, thinking that yet again, it might be a little more suggestive than I'd want to be seen in.

"You have to trust me, Bella," Alice said, noticing my hesitation. "You can totally pull it off. Try it, girl, you might be pleasantly surprised." She pushed the dress into my hand and closed the drapes right in front of my face.

"Very impressive customer service skills, Alice." I pretended to be appalled by her less than classy move.

"Shut up and try it!" she urged with a snorty laugh.

Yet, she was right once again, the dress was perfect. It was white with black leaves weaving around the hem of the skirt, and a black silk ribbon wrapped around the waist. It was surprisingly flattering for my figure, and I actually liked the off the shoulder cut more than I expected. I jutted my naked shoulder to the front, looking at myself in the mirror and enjoying the softness of the dress and how it clung to my body. The length of the skirt could have been a few inches longer, but I decided to trust Alice - my legs did look pretty damn good in it.

"I hear the contented sigh. You like?" Alice asked, pushing a pair of black shoes under the drapes to me.

"I like, Alice, thank you."

"Put the pumps on, your legs will look a mile high."

I heard some rustling behind the drapes. "No, you cannot see Bella in that dress. Get back to your hidey hole, Edward."

"Alice, what the hell?" Edward's quiet voice was full of venom.

"Not for your eyes, Edward. This is Bella's prom and you are not invited. Bella, would you like to be subjected to this man's sexist remarks again?" Alice poked her head inside and winked at me. I winked back. Edward deserved a little lesson.

"Nope," I answered loudly. "Sexist remarks are not welcome, thank you. You lied to me, Edward!" I said, rising my face up to make sure my words carried over the barrier between us.

"What? When?" I loved how perplexed he sounded; it was my turn to rattle him a little.

"You also have a very bad memory. Old age does that to you," I sighed. Alice's laugh rang through the room like a bell.

"What are you talking about, Bella?" Edward demanded. "Alice, let go of my shirt already."

"Let go of the idea that you can boss us around," was Alice's smug answer.

Edward huffed.

"You told me you liked my white t-shirt last week." I wondered if pouting was something that could be conveyed in the sound of my voice. "My next one will tell you to 'Peace out,'" I informed him, much to Alice's delight.

"Edward, I swear, if you make one more move towards that dressing room, I will punch you."

"You both are insane," Edward grouched.

"Hey, no one invited you here," Alice rightfully pointed out. "Feel free to leave. Bella, did you try the shoes?"

"Yes, they're great."

"You're paying for those, by the way, because you're keeping them. But I'll take the tags off the dress. When it's all said and done, the total will be reasonable and your father won't suspect a thing."

"Thank you."

"Edward, you're embarrassing yourself, stop snooping and please get the fuck out. I need to see Bella's outfit."

I guessed that Edward was finally gone when she opened the drapes wide and beckoned me outside.

After making me twirl around and parade back and forth, Alice was satisfied.

"Awesome. Leave the dress and the shoes inside and come out when you're ready, I'll wait for you here and bring everything out myself."

I doubted that Edward cared enough about the dress to barge in here, but the thought of Alice blocking any chance for him to do so made me smirk. I liked the fact that she was giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Charlie walked back into the store several minutes later, when I was already at the counter waiting for Alice to finish packing the dress and the shiny box with my brand new pumps into the bag. I wasn't looking forward to going to the prom alone, but at least I wasn't going to be a fashion disaster.

"Charlie, you're just in time," Alice greeted him as he stopped next to me.

"What's the damage?" he asked, opening his wallet.

"Uh." I looked at Alice.

"It depends on what you call damage." She smiled, handing him the receipt.

Charlie glanced at the numbers, nodded, and slid the credit card to her. "I can live with that."

"Oh good, because Bella is going to look stunning."

A muffled noise from the stockroom made us all turn and look in that direction.

"Hurmph." A loaded question came from Charlie, in his typical fashion.

"Must be rats." Alice shrugged, flashing her dazzling grin at Charlie, flustering him again. I loved it–both Alice's answers and Charlie's reactions. "I'm calling the exterminator tomorrow."

I was sure that Edward heard every word and Alice would get an earful after we left. I snickered, imagining another round of fiery banter between them. I wouldn't be surprised if Edward ended up getting his ass kicked after all. At this point, I was digging Alice's every word and move—we could be great friends.

"There you go, Bella." Still smiling, Alice walked around the counter and handed me the bag with my newly acquired outfit and my purse. "Thank you for stopping by."

"Thank you for your help, Alice," Charlie chimed in, trying his best to put a flirty smile on his face. It looked like he was having a seizure.

I cleared my throat, glancing back at the open door of the stockroom. There was no movement, no sound. Even if I was a little put off by Edward's obvious possessive behavior earlier, I was missing him already. I hated that I didn't know when I would see him again.

"Bella, what are you doing for the summer?" The question from Alice was unexpected.

"I have a part-time job back home."

"Where is _home_?"

"Forks."

"Oh." Alice obviously had never heard of it.

"Great place for hiking," Charlie offered, like that information could charm Alice off her feet. Did he just wiggle his eyebrows at her? I wanted to bury my face in my hands.

"Would you like to work here a few hours a week? It could be fun, and we have an employee discount." Alice had brilliant white teeth, how did I not notice before? Her big brown eyes stared at us innocently.

"She'd probably spend more money on gas than what she'd make here," Charlie chuckled.

"Da-a-ad," I protested. "It's nice to have something outside of Forks for a change, and it would be a great experience for me."

Yes, if Alice's brother decided to hang out with me every time I had my shift here, it _would_ be a great experience. We could explore the stockroom a little more too.

Alice looked at frowning Charlie, then at sulking me, then back at Charlie.

"Tell you what," she said after a moment of loaded silence. "Why don't you discuss it amongst yourselves, and Bella, you can call me anytime. My card is in the bag."

She hugged me warmly, ignoring Charlie's puzzled expression and whispered, "I'm very happy to meet you, Bella. Don't forget about the dress."

"What's that?" Charlie decided to play cop for a minute. Darn his built-in radar detection system.

"Like I told Bella, she can bring the dress back if she ends up not liking it. We accept exchanges within fourteen days."

"That's a pretty stiff policy, if you ask me."

"I'm trying to run a profitable business here, Charlie."

I tugged his sleeve, begging him to stop embarrassing me by giving Alice a hard time.

"We got a great discount, dad, remember?"

That reminder was very effective. Charlie ducked his head, mumbling something resembling a 'good-bye' and we both headed to the exit. I glanced back with one last hope to see a glimpse of Edward and of course got nothing. Alice was looking at me and waved; I waved back and followed Charlie outside.

My phone buzzed not even a few steps away from the store.

_**Tell me you'll take the job -E**_

I smiled because I already knew the answer, but Edward would have to wait to find out.

* * *

**A/N: Confidence is a wonderful thing, isn't it? **  
**So, how did I do? The kiss? The kiss! What do you think? **

**The painting mentioned in this chapter is by Salvador Dali "Swans Reflecting Elephants" and can be seen on my blog as well, the link is on my profile.**

**Some kind, amazing soul nominated Sinnerman for Avant Garde FanFiction award in "Best Shock Value" category. I was sure shocked! :) Thank you! The voting started on November 20th here: ****twilightfb-awards(dot)blogspot(dot) .****Please consider supporting the nominees, it would make us very happy. Thank you.**

******Thank you for reading. **

******A few words from you make a huge difference, please review. Thank you!**  



	23. Chapter 21 Compunction

_**A/N: I am as always in awe with my readers, thank you for supporting this story! I hope you'll stick around as the plot thickens - and it will.**_

_**Thank you to Maddux for interviewing me and for featuring Sinnerman on her blog, she is doing a fantastic job promoting the authors, check the blog out: **_**http:/madmaddux(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

_**Thank you to my betas extraordinaire saluki168 and twitchlings and to my amazing pre-readers AngryBadgerGirl and philadelphic for holding my hand and keeping me sane.**_

_**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**_

* * *

_With a tray of food and a soda in my hand, I stalked determinedly to the table where the girl sat, plastering the signature 'sex' smile on my face, and asked, nodding to the empty chair across the table from her, "Excuse me, miss, is this seat taken?"_

**Chapter 21**

**Compunction**

**xxx**

_**EPOV**_

The girl's eyes darted around before settling on my face—she froze with her sandwich raised in midair. I was pointing to the empty chair across from her and smiling in assurance that I was, in fact, talking to her and asking for permission to join her at the table. It took her a moment to snap out of her trance before she nodded.

_Permission granted, task one accomplished._ I sat down. My next step would be to stop smiling like a fucking moron and say something, preferably something of substance. Wasn't I supposed to woo the girl? _Fuck._

"This place is sure crowded today," I shared a few words of wooing wisdom. At this rate, I'd grow old working on this shitty assignment.

"Err… always is." The girl smiled shyly and continued chewing on her sandwich.

"Oh." Apparently, I was out of pickup lines, too. My smooth-talker, panty-dropper, cocky-bastard persona was gone. Any other time I'd probably be upset —not today. I cursed internally, ordering myself to focus and make it work because fucking this up wasn't an option.

In order to appear relaxed, I slumped in my chair and pulled the tray containing my lunch closer to me. Something told me that it would be better if I didn't force the conversation. I could see that she discreetly watched my movements, and it would have been cute if I hadn't loathed her from the very moment Jasper mentioned my role in this job, and way before I even had seen the girl.

For the next few minutes, I acted as if the pink girl was nothing of consequence to me. I leisurely ate my barely warm slice of pizza, which tasted like burnt plastic and drank my flat coke while looking around and observing the crowd. Emmett loved cold pizza; he swore that it tasted better the next day. I rolled my eyes inwardly—the man could eat cold fried calamari and enjoy the shit out of it, so he wasn't exactly the epitome of good taste in… pretty much anything, especially lately. My thoughts gradually moved to Rose and our discussion last night in the basement. I looked at the pink girl again. Her brows were knitted as if she were contemplating on some thought, allowing me to study her a little more. The orange overalls she had on did nothing to help her pale complexion, but she had big blue eyes and wasn't exactly without curves. I couldn't deny that she was pretty in her own way. _At least there's that._

"Must be awkward." Her quiet voice drew my attention back to her face. She pointed at the badge that was clipped to my collar, waiting for it to be noticed by her. I placed it there because I needed her to learn today who I was so the next time she wouldn't see me as a stranger. The sooner we got acquainted the better.

I crossed my eyes to look at my badge and I smiled. "Yeah, company policy. Weird, huh?

"I just started there last week." I added another prepared lie. While I had studied some details about the company that I chose to be my cover, I figured it would be more prudent if I pretended to be new there. With my luck, the blond girl might know someone there, and then I'd be fucked.

"M-hm-m." She took a bite of her sandwich without lowering her gaze from my face. "What do you do?" she asked a few moments later.

"Marketing. You?" I grazed my eyes over her quickly and looked down, hoping that I seemed nonchalant.

She dropped her sandwich on the plate, sat back in her chair and proudly flicked her fingers over her own badge. "IT Security Analyst."

That was slightly unexpected. Jasper said she worked in IT, but he neglected to mention her specialty. The fucker probably had no idea what her position and skills could mean to us, even if I spelled it out for him and did it very slowly.

"Are you like the highway patrol, except you chase hackers who break into the system?" I decided to play moderately informed, hoping to gain some respect and interest from her. It paid off.

"You could say that," she responded, looking at me with more curiosity. "I'm actually more like a bouncer who doesn't let the wannabes inside the cool, but very private club." She smirked. _The girl's got wit, I should give her that. _"Occasionally, I act as a hacker myself. I get paid to penetrate the written code and find holes."

_Penetrate? Was the girl flirting with me already? _That would have been too easy.

"Nice." I openly appreciated shared information, although this little revelation could bite us in the ass. She wasn't just some girl in tech support. From the way it sounded, she was keeping up with the entire security aspect of the company system and most likely knew her shit. This news, however, could also be a blessing in disguise—if it worked, with her access, I could get what we needed easier and faster than I initially thought.

I was done with my pizza and with my introduction. It was time to go.

"Well—" I leaned forward on my elbows, as if checking her name on the badge, while actually taking the opportunity to study it closer and making note of every detail, just in case. There was a key attached to the same ring as the badge, probably to her office. _Good to know. _I read her name as if it was new to me, "Kate_. _It was nice meeting you, Kate.

"Thank you for the company," I added getting up and picking up my tray with the empty greasy plate and cup. "See you around." _You can bet on that._ I sighed quietly.

"Take care… erm…" The pink girl squinted her eyes at my collar once again.

"Will. Will Grimm." I introduced myself as a master of fairy telling, bowing slightly.

There was no way she would make the connection. The one girl who could wasn't here. Could never be here.

"Will." The pink girl blinked and tilted her head in a nod. _No clue._

I flashed her a victory sign as a good-bye, then turned and headed to the escalator without looking back. I dumped the tray on my way out and was sure that the girl kept her eyes on me while I slowly descended to the lower floor and disappeared from her view.

The badge came off as soon as I settled in my car. I loosened the top two buttons of my shirt, realizing how much the collar suffocated me. The last forty minutes had drained me as if I had just run a marathon, and it was just the beginning of the shit I would have to drag myself through.

Navigating through the parking structure to the exit, I automatically reached for the radio controls to turn it on—the monotonous mumbling of a talk show normally soothed me. My fingers hit the broken plastic, and the sharp edges scraped my skin, reminding me about my angry outburst at Jasper last week—a memory I wasn't proud of.

I needed to fix that radio before Alice found out about it. Bella, being as perceptive as she was, had already questioned it. The thought of Bella constricted my breathing and made me reach for my pocket to check my phone. _Nothing since the morning._ As much as I was mentally prepared for that, it still brought me down. It was going to be a very long day.

I all but checked out for the next several hours, making it home on autopilot, and heading straight for my room.

"Hey, man!"

I turned to look down at Jasper from the top of the stairs. Was he waiting for me?

"What's up, Jasper?" I could be calm and composed. I had vowed to myself how many times already that I wouldn't give in to his fuckery.

"How did your date go?"

"Hardly a date," I objected weakly, "but it went well. I talked to the girl."

"Nice, nice." He nodded jovially. The fucker was happy that I _talked t_o the girl. I could only imagine how ecstatic he'd be if I'd actually put out, he would probably order fireworks to celebrate. _Asshole._

"Did you know that she isn't just an average Sysadmin?" I threw the question at him, looking carefully for his reaction.

"What do you mean?" His face remained smooth—he appeared completely unnerved. Maybe this time he really had no clue how incandescent the fire we were playing with was.

"She's a Grey-hat."

"I have no idea what the fuck you just said," Jasper smiled, still relaxed. "If you want me to respond, use laymen's terms. Like, plain English."

"Grey-hat is a term. Are you admitting that you don't know shit for once?" I allowed myself to gloat at his expense; I was in dire need of a healthy dose of it.

"In plain English it means," I continued, mimicking his patronizing tone. It brought me immense pleasure, despite the fact that we could be in deep shit if we weren't careful, "that it isn't black and white with that girl. Not only does she appear to know how to secure the systems, she also occasionally hacks into them as an exercise. Therefore, she knows the techniques and the mentality of a hacker like no one else. Do you understand the danger she could pose to us?"

"Pink girl in a grey hat. That's hot!" He laughed, ignoring my warning question. "What, you don't find it funny? Come on, man," he teased me. Everything was funny to him lately. "Oh, whatever. You know, she's just like you."

"Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean," I muttered, annoyed by his blatant ignorance.

"She's wasting her talent, just like you. You can't seem to recognize your calling, E, no matter how hard I try to help you. But I'm not giving up on you, my man; you can't be stuck at the crossroad forever. "

Jasper kept talking, but I didn't hear it, fixated on the particular meaning in what he said. His words struck me deeply. So that was how he saw me - neither here nor there, stuck at a fork in the road. Did it mean that there was still hope for me?

"_There are multiple paths and different versions of you. If you search long enough..."_ I remembered Bella's words at the coffee shop when we were discussing Borges. Well, too fucking bad because there wasn't much to search for. The paths I had walked and the versions of me I'd already discovered were nothing to be proud of. Was it worth it to keep looking? Was it worth the fight?

The cold, uncaring voice within me chuckled harshly, "_You're not._" The vehement, heated counterpart of it argued fiercely, "_Bella is!_"

"I'm counting on this job to loosen you up a little." Jasper's voice floated into my consciousness, bringing me back to the reality. "Once you stop resisting, you'll see how great we can be as a team."

"I hate this job," I muttered.

"That's exactly what I mean. Why resist if you don't have a choice? Learn to love it, brother, give it your all. The rush, the pleasure, the reward—all worth it." Jasper's encouraging words made my stomach churn. "Look, it's actually quite simple with this girl. She's just lonely, which, I guarantee you, means horny. You crack her box and we're set." He chuckled wryly, happy with his own nasty joke, and looked down, patting his pockets, getting distracted and distracting me.

"Where is my damn... shit, I left it at..." he mumbled and looked back at me. "Hey, do you have a lighter? Are you going to go see her tomorrow?" he asked without waiting for me to respond about the lighter and throwing me off kilter, more so because his earlier words had shaken me up already.

_Tomorrow?_

"Why would I see her again so soon?" I felt the muscles of my jaw tensing involuntarily. Although I knew exactly what Jasper was doing time after time, the whole 'calm and composed' thing was still a challenge. But I was still trying, and by that I mean I wasn't rolling my eyes, groaning, or snapping at him. _Yet._

"What do you mean _why_?" Jasper asked innocently and leaned on the stair railing, seemingly forgetting about his need for the lighter. Fuck, he was going to be at this for a while, I could tell. "To have her get used to the idea that you're a constant and so she grows to like you to the point where she wants, you know, _to confide _in you, on every level." I wished he would have just let it go for once and let me deal with whatever shit I had to be dealing with here on my own. I also wished that he wouldn't wink when he talked.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm working on it. But you said yourself that I shouldn't go to the mall too often."

"Don't play dumb," Jasper said sternly, his fingers gripped on the railing. "Get to know the girl well enough so she starts meeting you somewhere less crowded. And do it fast."

"If you think it's so easy, why don't you do it yourself?" I snapped at him. I could have finished this conversation and moved on by simply agreeing, but no, I had to argue and, of course lose, because it was indeed a losing fucking fight. Choices be damned, I'd do everything I was told to keep Jasper away from whatever private part that was left in my life, to keep Alice at least somewhat happy, and to continue making amends for my painful deed to Rose and my brother.

"You're much better suited for it, brother." Jasper attempted flattery, smirking. "And your family needs your help." He applied pressure just on the right point, as always.

I groaned. "There are other ways to do this."

"Oh yeah? Why don't you tell us about _your_ brilliant idea that would make us richer by, let's say, nine hundred grand? Because if we don't do this job, that's about what we are waving good-bye to. Wanna break the news to Rose?"

_Holy fuck! _I gasped like fish out of the water; that was a lot of money.

"Don't you start counting what's not yours yet," Jasper warned me, sensing my astonishment. "We have to divide it equally as usual, and I'm paying a bunch of other people. Don't forget that if you fuck it up with the girl, we'll have to buy her silence as well."

"Oh yeah?" I sneered. "Why do you think she can be bought? Why do you think that _everyone_ can be bought?"

"I don't pick 'em randomly, don't you know?" Jasper rebuked condescendingly. "As soon as I was pointed in the direction of that girl, I did my homework. She's lonely, she has a sick mother, and money is tight. Sound familiar?" he drawled, leaned towards me and laughed, making a ghoulish, snorting sound. _Familiar?_ Yes, that was us less than three years ago. _We should have said no then._

The reminder and his loud, taunting laugh made me sick. _Sick._ I couldn't take it.

I flew down the stairs, and before the motherfucker managed to blink, I held him by his neck up against the wall. I wanted him to be scared, and I wanted to hear him choke. I wanted his face red, his arms flailing, I wanted him to beg me, or better—fight me.

"Hit me," I ordered through my teeth, releasing my fingers from his neck and shifting my elbow up under his chin to apply more pressure to his Adam's apple. "Do it, motherfucker!"

I wouldn't have minded if he ended up begging me for mercy _after_ he fought back.

Fucker didn't move. His arms were nowhere near me, and the sneering scowl on his strained, red face told me that he wasn't going to give me the satisfaction of seeing him beg or fight back. I was losing the fight even though I wasn't the one shoved against the wall, deprived of the oxygen.

"Hit me," I growled, still holding him. I punched the wall next to his head.

"What's going on here?"

Rose's low, demanding voice echoed in the hallway.

"Edward? What are you doing?"

Jasper, teary from me choking him, watched jubilantly as I slowly removed my elbow from his throat and straightened up. "It's not over, fucker," I whispered to him menacingly. I half-turned my head and added louder, still glaring at Jasper out of the corner of my eye, "Just having a man to man talk, Rose, it's nothing."

"Didn't look like _a talk_ to me," Rose objected, drawing the word 'talk' out in her Bostonian accent. It was always more evident when she was upset or irritated.

"If Edward said it's nothing." Jasper pushed himself from the wall, smiling a nauseatingly peaceful smile. "Then it's nothing. Not to worry, darlin'."

"Whatever." Rose rolled her eyes and turned to leave. "You_ boys _need to grow up," she suggested and, waving us off at the kitchen door, added, "Keep it quiet. I'll wring your necks if you make another noise in a middle of nap time."

"Sorry, Rose," Jasper said quickly, almost sounding like he meant it. _Fucking clown._ I knocked him with my shoulder to clear the way. It would be interesting if he decided to take me up on my offer now.

Of course he didn't.

xxx

Bella had just left with her father.

The room still smelled like her. Her gasps and moans still echoed in my ears as I sat behind a stack of boxes in the stockroom, in the same spot where I was kissing her just minutes ago. My hands were buried in my hair, and I remembered, no I wished that it were her hands—hungry and demanding—and I wanted her mouth that tasted so fucking sweet on me again.

I wanted more than that, and I probably would have gotten it if it wasn't for my sister Alice successfully cockblocking me.

The rational, pragmatic part of me knew that Alice had done the right thing. If it wasn't for her, I could have gotten Bella into serious trouble if we had stayed in the stockroom much longer. And we would have, because there was no way in this fucking world I could willingly extract myself from Bella after she gave me a permission to kiss her. Once I tasted her mouth, I was a goner, so Alice did me a real favor by butting in. I told myself repeatedly that I should thank her, not be mad at her.

Yet, the other side of me, the one that was primarily motivated by the part located a lot lower than my nearly-debilitated-by-lust brain, was shamelessly cursing and refusing to be reasoned with. It wasn't surprising. I was a grown man and I had needs, and it had been so long. Just that one thought made me feel disgusted with myself all over again. What was it about this girl that made me lose all control whenever I was near her?

"Get out of there already and talk to me, Edward," Alice called for me to come out of the stockroom.

"Fuck," I muttered, digging deep inside myself in search of the gratitude I was supposed to feel for my sister's gracious deeds this afternoon.

If she expected me to thank her for Bella's dress and for being nice to her, and, well, for offering her a job, it was coming. _Eventually. _But not just yet, because I was still mad at her for deliberately pissing me off by arguing with me in front of Bella.

The store was empty, and Alice was making her usual rounds getting ready for closing. She was straightening the stacks of clothes and putting things away when I emerged from the back of the store.

"So?" She looked at me expectantly, her hands crossed on her chest.

"Alice, I have to go."

Knowing exactly what she wanted to talk about, I decided to bail because there was no other way to avoid the conversation I didn't feel like having yet. _As if she isn't going to hunt you down at home, you fool._

I begged Alice with my eyes to give me a break, to let the topic of Bella go, because I needed time. I needed tons of fucking time: time to process what happened today, and time to decide what I was going to do about the fact that I'd broken every promise I had made to myself and to Bella. I thought of her soft, supple lips again, the way she tasted, the way she made me undone. Although I had made every effort possible to keep my tongue away, there was a moment when Bella swept hers against my bottom lip that, if it wasn't for Alice yelling my name, I would have probably ended up licking and kissing every part of her body accessible to me at the time.

"Are you serious?" Alice narrowed her eyes at me. "You're going to leave without talking to me about what just happened here?"

I looked away, stubbornly avoiding Alice's inquisitive stare.

"That's low even for you, Edward," she said, hurt evident in her voice.

"Even for me?" I blanched. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"It means that you owe me an explanation. And you know, a simple _thank you, dear sister, for helping_, would be nice, because I fucking deserve it. Never mind the fact that I just lost more than four hundred bucks on that sale."

"You're right. I'm sorry," I said, reaching for my wallet, feeling like a complete shithead, but still irked by her '_low even for you'_ comment.

"Keep your goddamn money, you ass," she hissed.

"For now." She smiled astutely a second later. "There is another way you can repay me."

"You spend way too much time with Jasper," I noted in irritation. Since when did my sister become so material? "Let me guess, you've decided to branch out and want another store? It will cost a lot more than four hundred bucks, Alice."

"Fuck you, Edward. You will never let me live it down, will you? Jasper is my _boyfriend_, for God's sake! And being incredibly thoughtful as he is, he bought this place for me. It was on the verge of bankruptcy - he got it practically for nothing."

"Keep telling yourself that. God, you can be really thick for such a smart girl. Jasper didn't _buy_ it. He won it playing poker, Alice. He is a fucking gambler, and that will never change."

"Oh, and you're a saint?" She glared at me; her small hands were now balled into fists.

"No, but I never lie to you."

"Sure, you don't. You hide things from me instead."

"For your own good!" It took me a lot of restraint not to yell at her. I'd been doing my best to insure her physical safety, and that part was somewhat easy. But her mental issues were a different story, and the last thing I wanted was to make her emotional state worse. "I want to protect you, Al, please. And that means protecting you from that asshole too."

"I love him, and I don't care what you say. I don't want to listen to any of this bullshit." In demonstration, Alice covered her ears, but she was still looking at me. Her eyes were full of tears. She knew I was right, especially about Jasper. She fucking _knew_ it, and still refused to accept the truth. How fucked up was that?

"Fine," I sighed, relenting. "It's your life."

"Yes it is, and it's not like you let me into yours anymore, either."

The quivering bottom lip and the red tip of Alice's nose were a direct indication that she was seconds from crying.

"Come here."

Reaching out, I pulled her into a hug. She grudgingly leaned into me, but didn't hug me back. I smoothed her short, unruly hair that was so like my own. She felt so fragile, so tiny in my arms. Bitterness filled my mouth, making me swallow hard. I was supposed to protect my little sister like I promised Mom, and I had fucking failed. I searched for the words to ask her how she was doing, to find out whether Jasper was telling the truth about her feeling depressed and unwanted. But I wasn't a fool; I already knew the answers.

"I'm sorry, sis." My voice sounded rough from the raw guilt stuck in my throat.

"I don't want you to be sorry for me," she protested, breaking away from my hug. Her eyes were red, but at least there were no more tears.

"That's not what I'm sorry for. I hate it that we don't talk anymore."

"I'm trying, Edward!" Alice's face scrunched up in a grimace of frustration. "I'm not the one constantly pushing away. What stops you from talking to me right now?"

There was no reasonable argument I could come up with. There was no one to blame for my asshole ways towards my sister but myself.

Raising my eyes from studying my hands for a long moment, I sighed and said, "I don't know, Al, it depends on what you want to discuss."

"I want to know about Bella."

I groaned. _Of course._

"Isn't there anything else we could talk about?" I asked, making one last attempt to fight the inevitable.

"As if you are capable of thinking about anything else, Edward," Alice countered. "If only you could see yourself right now. You look like you've been hit by a train and you loved it."

I sighed and racked my fingers through my hair. I wasn't very interested in looking at myself in the mirror, but Alice was probably right.

"There is something about her," she said pensively. "She seems sweet, bashful, yet feisty. You can't help but be drawn to her." She clicked her tongue, and I thought that she would definitely make fun of me, but she didn't.

"Tell me about it," I nodded, appreciating that she was sparing my feelings.

"She's…" Alice paused, looking for words.

"She is seventeen, Alice, and off limits," I finished the sentence for her tersely, wishing more than anything to end this conversation.

"Good to know." She smirked. "You seem to be keeping that in mind all the time. It was especially evident when I caught you ravishing her in the stockroom."

"That was against my better judgment and it won't happen again."

"Right."

She didn't believe me. I didn't believe myself either, but I was going to put up a serious fight this time and try to keep my hands to myself. The sarcastic voice in my head wished me the best of luck.

Considerably calmer, Alice walked to the fitting room and pushed the drapes all the way open. A few dresses were still hanging on the wall inside, including the green one that Bella tried on earlier, making me lose my shit as I effectively showcased my possessive tendencies in all their glory.

"So, you aren't going to tell me anything else about her?" Alice asked, walking out of the room with her hands full.

I rolled my eyes and dug my hands in to my pockets. Alice read my body language right—I wasn't. I'd already said enough.

"This is ridiculous, Edward. You've got to give me something here," she demanded. "Who is this girl? How did you meet her?" She hung the dresses on the rack and turned to me.

"I already told you," I protested.

"Oh yes, you did tell me, all right! She's just a friend," she mocked my low voice, accentuating the word _friend._ "Who needed help with a dress. You wanted me to lend it to her rather than sell because… because, hey, that's what apparently I do—give away Pucci dresses practically for nothing." She walked behind the counter, opened the bottom drawer and retrieved her purse.

"Dress rental is legit business; you should look into it," I relented. The joke, of course, fell onto unappreciated ears.

Alice slammed the drawer and pointed at me with the purse in her hand. "Since when are you such an expert in retail business?"

"I'm not, I'm just trying…" I stopped, looking for words, which weren't coming.

"You're trying what?" she asked insistently.

"Nothing," I bickered.

In frustration, I grabbed and tugged on a fistful of my hair. This conversation wasn't going the way I envisioned it; instead of keeping my sister calm, I had managed to get her even more agitated.

"I didn't mean for it to happen this way. She was supposed to come here by herself, and I…"

"And you what, Edward," she pressed again, stepping closer. "Say it. You left her here alone? Left _me_ to deal with her father? Why were you hiding? Why didn't you come out and introduce yourself to her father?" she kept bombarding me with questions. "And again, how exactly did you meet this girl?

"At the book store, Alice, I met Bella at the book store." _And then spent weeks stalking her. _"Please don't look at me like that."

Ironically, the only person who could vouch that I was telling the truth was Jasper. I could suggest that she ask him. _Yeah, no. That isn't going to happen._

"Be real—I can't meet Bella's father," I argued instead.

"Why not?"

"Do I have to point to the obvious?"

"Let me guess, she's too young and immature to be in a relatioship."

"Yes. Maybe. There are other things that her age and maturity have nothing to do with. It's about me, not her. I'll ruin her." I winced at harshness of my own words.

"Oh, drama." Alice grimaced. "But that's just it, Edward. If you're so concerned about the girl's well being, then don't string her along." She pushed her purse into my chest, making me step back. "Don't kiss her in stockrooms." She pushed me again with surprising strength, which was multiplied by her irritation with me. "And don't act like a possessive asshat. If you don't mean to be with her, leave her alone. She isn't yours to claim."

_The hell she's not!_

"You know, you only think that you have all the answers and are in control," she chuckled after observing me heaving. "But she's got you wrapped around her little finger."

Not much to argue about there, but I didn't like Alice's starry eyes when she said it.

"Alice," I said, alarmed by her dreamy expression, "don't you go staging some divine intervention. Stay away."

"I don't think it's possible. I offered her a job here, remember? With you in mind, by the way."

I nodded, rubbing my forehead. At first it seemed like a great idea, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Bella at Alice's shop meant inevitably meeting the rest of the family. It wouldn't have been that bad if it weren't for Jasper. He wasn't family. He was almost an enemy.

"Look, Edward, I'm serious. If you aren't sure about this girl." Alice gave my expression her own interpretation, "you need to tell her before it gets complicated. It's like you said—she is young. She's also clearly smitten with you. Don't break her heart, brother."

Alice had her heart broken once. The deep crease on her forehead and blank stare told me she was far away, down the memory lane.

"You said it yourself, I'm no saint, so far from it," I said glumly. "I have no idea what I'm doing, and I need to figure it out. But I can't stay away from her, Al. I tried." _A fucking lie. _I hadn't tried at all, not really. I couldn't.

"What can I do?" she asked, immediately at my side, touching my arm.

"If I said _do nothing, _would you listen?" I asked, only half hopeful. She looked at me frowning. "I don't want you to talk about Bella to anyone, especially Jasper. I can't... "

_Fuck. _This wasn't easy. It sounded like I was ashamed and was trying to hide Bella, when in reality, it wasn't Bella I was ashamed of.

I drew a deep breath and blew it out loudly. "She makes me feel a whole, Al. She makes me feel like I am actually worth something."

"You are, Edward."

I waved, dismissing her words. "It's hard... I'm totally lost. All I know is that I can't let her go. I will burn in hell for this, but I can't stop seeing her. So, I have to find a way to keep her away from our fuckery. And I need you to see that I'm doing the same for you. We all are. Even Jasper. "

"Please don't," Alice whispered.

I nodded, agreeing that Jasper wasn't the point here. "I won't let anyone drag you into this, just like with Bella, but what I'm trying to do is almost impossible. Do you understand how hard it is to draw the line, to deliberately keep you in the dark so you're safe? Can you please try to help me?"

"I'll try," she said half-heartily. "Although it upsets me that none of you trust me."

"If we didn't trust you, we wouldn't have counted on you as part of our plan. It's not about trust at all," I argued. "It's about protecting our most precious asset."

I hugged her and kissed her forehead. "If you don't want me to feel like the most worthless piece of shit for the rest of my life, you must help me to keep you safe. And, remember, we need you."

A short nod was all I got, but that was all I needed.

xxx

On Thursday night the family happily took Rose up on her offer to cook us dinner. Quite frankly, we all were a little sick of Chinese take-out and pizza every other night. Alice perched next to Rose, helping her cut vegetables, while Emmett volunteered to season the steak. It was one of those rare evenings when the entire family was together, and miraculously, everyone was in a good mood.

I wasn't a big fan of green pepper, but Rose loved it, so it was a frequent ingredient in our dishes when she cooked. Alice, knowing my aversion to it, especially when it was raw, waved a long slice of it in front of me, laughing.

"Can't you just see the vitamins oozing from it?" she teased bringing the slice even closer to my face. I pushed her hand away, huffing. "Rose, tell him how good it is for him. You're an expert, bring the facts!" she requested.

"Green pepper," Rose repeated readily—her hand didn't stop the quick work of the knife over the lettuce. She raised her eyes to the ceiling as if remembering something. "Green pepper is low in saturated fat, cholesterol and sodium. Great source of thiamin, niacin, folate, magnesium and copper, and a very good source of dietary fiber, vitamin A, C, K, B6, potassium and manganese," she chanted while we watched her in amazement. Emmett did so with his mouth open. The steak was going to be definitely over-seasoned because he kept shaking the salt shaker up and down without registering what he was doing.

"Are you for real?" I felt obligated to check with Rose when she finished. Though, knowing how she had turned into a health-nut, I shouldn't have been surprised. "You remember all the nutritional facts of green pepper?"

Rose shrugged one shoulder; her lips twitched in a smile.

"Isn't she amazing?" Alice beamed, getting up and sliding the pieces of cut vegetables into the pot on the stove. "Rose, how about this one?" she held up a piece of zucchini.

Rose took the piece from her and popped it in her mouth. She chewed on it with a soft crunching sound and turned to Emmett, quirking her brow at him. He froze, entranced, "Wha?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she crossed the kitchen, applying swagger to each step and reached for Emmett's hand, taking away the shaker.

"Zu-kee-nee," she intoned, looking him in the eyes with a smile. "Rich in thiamin, niacin, pantothenic acid, dietary fiber." She brought her lips to his ear and continued in a low, sultry voice, "And in protein, vitamin A, C, B6, folate, iron, phosphorus, zinc, and copper," she crooned.

"Rose, baby, are you making this shit up?" Emmett rasped lovingly and grabbed her by the hips. She smiled coyly, neither denying nor confirming what she knew. "That's so hot," he breathed, leaning down to kiss her.

"Get a room, you two," Jasper laughed, walking into the kitchen. He peeled off a leftover piece of green pepper—what else?—that was stuck to the side of the cutting board and sent it to his mouth while looking around at us. I shivered, but didn't comment, determined to not spoil this evening.

I watched Emmett whispering something to Rose, and her reaction as she smiled brightly at him. Her eyes flashed with a promise. She rubbed her leg against the back of his, and I saw Emmett squeeze her hip one more time before she moved back to finish the dressing for the salad. At the same time, Alice hopped to Jasper and soundly kissed him on the lips. "I missed you today," she told him, gazing at him adoringly. She all but purred when he brought her to sit on his lap.

"Rose, do you need help with anything?" I asked when I could no longer bear the feeling of being the third wheel in my own house.

"Just sit and relax, Edward," Rose allowed. She glanced at Emmett again, who grinned broadly at her.

"What are we drinking?" he asked, tearing his eyes off his wife and looking at me.

There was something going on, something good, for once.

I shrugged, "Doesn't matter to me. Is there an occasion?"

"A big one," Rose informed us, her face was glowing, happy. "Em, get a bottle of red. It will go well with the steak."

Emmett nodded and reached for the cupboard door to retrieve the bottle. "Rose, you tell them." The skin around his eyes crinkled in a smile. Emmett _smiled_. My brother, who had been nothing but a fucking emo for the longest time, _smiled_. I sat up straight in my chair, waiting for the news. They both looked like they had just won the lottery. _Yeah, fucking right, with our luck. _

But it looked like it was close enough.

"We received a letter from the clinic in Arizona today with pre-approval for stem cell replacement therapy. We still have to wait for all the paperwork to go through, but luckily we are a match for the trial." Rose's eyes shined and she kept looking at Emmett, who I hadn't seen this happy in years. "There is hope for us. I knew it, baby."

"You didn't give up. I'm very proud of you, Rose." Emmett walked to her and kissed her forehead.

"None of it is covered by insurance, of course, since the treatment is experimental." Rose frowned briefly, looking at each of us in the room. She didn't need to clarify what it meant.

"Anyway." She went back to more cheerful tone. "We're celebrating today! Let's fucking drink!"

Alice got up and reached for Rose and Emmett, bringing all three of them together in a hug. They stood like that, quietly, in a tight embrace, for a while. "I'll be right back," she whispered to us and stepped out of the room. We all knew where she went.

"So, man," Jasper reminded us about his presence, as if it was _that_ necessary. Oh, he was actually addressing _me_. I braced myself. "Tell us how you are doing."

"Most splendid," I shared with him in the politest tone of voice I could muster, twisting my lips in the politest smile. Jasper could tell me to lose the stuffed shirt, he could also fucking go to hell too, I didn't care at the moment.

Emmett snorted.

"Splendid, huh?" Jasper smiled back, his fingers began tapping on the table.

I got up and moved to the counter to find the corkscrew for Emmett, who still held an unopened bottle of wine.

"Why don't you tell us how your date went today?" Jasper asked, making innocent, googly eyes at me. "How is your pink girl?"

"You're discussing Edward's girl?" Alice was back in the room, completely unnoticed. "Edward, really?" she turned looking at me wide-eyed.

Her expression told me that she thought I was playing games and manipulating her. She thought I lied to her at the store and had more secrets to hide. She was right. I did, but it wasn't what she was thinking. I shook my head in a slight movement, just for her. _No, Alice, please trust me. Don't mention her._

But she was already in a full-pouty mode, hands on the hips, glowering at me and ready to make trouble.

"Doesn't she hate pink?" she asked me accusingly. My sister didn't believe me and was about to make me pay.

_Fuckity fucker's never-ending fuck! That includes my fucking family and my fucking luck too!_

Jasper shifted his gaze from Alice to me, and then back, his eyes assessing our uneasy poses. I could read on his face that he sensed there were more unspoken words between us, and his brain worked hard, looking for ways to figure it out. But he hadn't yet, which meant that before it was too late, I had to find a way to remedy this clusterfuck without clarifying the major misunderstanding. In fact, I needed to keep it just that—a misunderstanding, so neither of them could figure out that they were talking about two different girls.

While trying to quickly consider several possible scenarios, I got angry over this whole situation: at Jasper, because he could never stop pushing me, and he knew better than to talk business with Alice present. At the same time, I shot a warning glance at Alice, who knew not to mention my private life in front of the family, especially since I begged her not to, and yet her distrust was getting the better of her.

These two probably couldn't be cured, and I sighed, choosing the scenario that in my mind was the most optimal in the current situation—throw Jasper off track while keeping Alice from spilling my deep secret. I was going to try sending a message to both of them.

"Pfft, you know I'm a serial dater. I can hardly keep up with who likes what color," I joked, hoping to sound lighthearted and failing miserably. They all just quietly stared at me.

"Weren't we supposed to open the wine and celebrate? Em, how's that steak coming?" I asked, avoiding looking at him—avoiding looking at anyone in the room for that matter, because that way I didn't have to deal with Jasper's evident suspicion, Alice's sharp agitation, and Emmett and Rose's disgruntled puzzlement.

I turned my back to them and tried to produce as much noise as possible by taking the plates one by one from the kitchen cabinet. Someone had to take care of the dishes. So, I volunteered.

* * *

_**A/N: I initially wanted prom to be in this chapter, but after a little bit of a struggle I decided to move it to the next. Had I made that decision sooner, you would have seen this chapter at least a week earlier, which makes me ask you, guys - do you prefer longer chapters or shorter? In general and for this story. **_

_**Review and I will send you a teaser. **_

_**Any kind feedback, even if it's only a few words, is greatly appreciated. Let me know that you care about the story. **_

_**As always, thank you for reading.**_


	24. Chapter 22 Acedia

**A/N: Still with me? I'm very grateful. Whenever you decide to leave a word or two for me, I feel incredible. Keep them coming, eh? **

**The usual suspects - my betas Saluki168, twitchlings, my pre-readers philadelpic, AngryBadgerGirl - I am lucky to have you. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal. ****The question is why.**

* * *

**Chapter 22**

**Acedia**

**xxx**

_**BPOV**_

My locker was always on the messy side. I was sorting out the clutter of old notes, books and pens, shaking my head at how much junk I had accumulated in less than six months, when Jessica stopped two lockers down from me. My heart jumped at the opportunity to talk to her.

"Jess," I called tentatively, closing the door to see her better. She turned to face me, and I smiled encouraged by the fact that at least she was looking at me. "Hi."

She cocked her head to the side but didn't respond. Her face showed no emotion.

"Jess, can we please talk?" I asked.

Her lips formed a straight, thin line. If the look on her face was any indication, my friend wasn't in a hurry to give me any chances to clear things up.

I sighed. "Do you remember our pact?" I was desperate to remind her how close we used to be; Jess scoffed at me. Okay, maybe talking about boys and grades wasn't the best idea. Still, I shook my head, "It never mattered, you know, I just wanted a friend."

She chewed on her lip in contemplation. "Bella," she finally spoke.

"Hey!"

We both whipped our heads around at the sound of Mike's voice. _Shit._

"Bella!"

_Oh, Mike Newton, please don't talk to me. Especially now._

"May I talk to you for a second?" He radiated happiness. His eyes scanned over me before fixing on my face.

He acted as if Jessica didn't exist.

She remedied that issue quickly by slamming her locker door and stepping in front of me. I expected her to give me a burning look of hate, but when I met her eyes, I saw nothing but deep affliction. She clutched her books to her chest, standing right between me and Mike as he craned his neck to address me, "I wanted to ask you something, Bella."

_No, you don't. Don't ask me anything. The answer will always be no._

My eyes were locked on Jessica, who was blocking Mike's view.

He moved around her as if she was an object, and placed one hand on the door behind me, leaning closer. I slid away along the wall of lockers, focusing on avoiding any contact with him.

"So," Mike murmured, unfazed by my attempt to create distance between us. He was still too close for my comfort. I could smell the coffee on his breath and held my own to prevent gagging. That was probably why I missed my cue for objecting, if not pushing Mike as far away from me as possible. Or closer to Jessica, if she still wanted him. "Our prom is tomorrow."

His breath fanned my neck, and I shivered from disgust. That was a mistake because Mike took it as a sign of encouragement. If he got any closer I would be able to take an exact count of the number of zits on his forehead. Jessica was still behind him, watching us with anguish written on her face.

"Mike." I made another shuffle to the side. "I am well aware that our prom is tomorrow. I can read, and my hearing is a hundred percent. Everyone's talking about it and the announcements are everywhere."

I almost asked him what his stupid point was but stopped myself, since being rude to him while I had to spend a whole summer as an employee at his family business wouldn't be a smart move on my part.

"Let's give them something else to talk about." The expression on his face was almost smug.

"What?" I staggered. "What do you mean?"

"I'd like to take you to prom, Bella." He extended his hand to me in an attempt to take my own. I jerked it away and looked at Jessica behind him. She had her eyes closed, the knuckles of her fist were locked between her teeth.

"Jess…" I twisted towards her.

She shook her head without opening her eyes.

"No, please." I almost knocked Mike over to get to her_._ She needed to know that I never encouraged him. "Please," I asked her again, touching her shoulder.

Just like back at my house on Sunday night, she flinched away from me.

"Bella?" Mike wasn't backing off.

"What?" I snapped, turning to him.

"I asked you about prom. Would you go? With me?" His cockiness was gone.

"Mike, listen…" I sighed, ready to explain to him how much going to prom with him wasn't a possibility, when I became distracted by the sound of quick, retreating steps. Jessica was walking, almost running, away.

"Oh, crap. Jess, wait!" I cried out after her.

"Bella, where are you going?" Mike grabbed me by the elbow.

"What do you want, Mike?" I groaned watching Jessica disappear around the corner. Even if Mike didn't stop me, I knew it was useless to chase her. She wouldn't listen to me, not after what she had just seen and heard.

"I was only asking about prom, Bella." He looked utterly perplexed.

"Are you blind?" I asked jerking my elbow away from his grip. Mike blinked a few times without answering. Yep, there was definitely something wrong with his vision - and sensibility that was completely missing.

He stepped back. "What did I do to offend you?"

"Nothing," I relented. "Please don't worry about me. I just don't understand how you can be so oblivious?"

Reality bit me in the ass, big time; I was repeating word to word what Jessica had said to me not long ago._ About me_. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

After a moment, I forced myself to look at him. "I'm sorry for being so rude. I do appreciate the invitation." I attempted to smile. The worried expression on Mike's face told me that I wasn't successful. "But I can't go to prom with you."

His worried expression turned sour. Mike shoved his hands into the front pockets of his pants and nodded sullenly "Right. Obviously, I waited too long to ask you. My fault…"

He stalked away and I didn't try to stop him, dismayed that not only my best friend was crushed, but also that I had managed to upset the guy who I was supposed to see all summer.

xxx

"Um, hi," I spoke into the silence of the voice-mail, hyper-conscious about how whiny and unpleasant I sounded. I cleared my throat and paused, gathering the next words. "Um… it's Bella, I borrowed the dress from you, remember? So.. um... I think I need more help... I hope you can call me back soon… Um… thank you…"

xxx

_**Paper is done and turned in –B**_

I texted Edward the first thing on Friday morning, as soon as left school.

He replied almost instantly.

_**That's it? You're free? –E**_

_**Yessss -B**_

_**Okay to call you? -E**_

I decided to beat him to it.

"Bella." He breathed.

"Hi." I smiled. Hearing Edward's voice for the first time since we parted in Alice's store made my blood run faster.

We had exchanged a few texts on Wednesday evening in which I tried to be pleasant, but short. I thanked him and Alice and told him that if I didn't finish my paper by Thursday night, I'd be grounded for life—or the entire summer, whichever. The truth was, I was majorly freaked out by the intensity of our time together at the store. What came over me that I practically begged Edward to kiss me? What did he mean when he whispered '_mine_'? Did he want all kisses from my lips to be only his? What did it mean to him? Was I reading too much into one kiss?

I probably was, so cooling off a little wasn't a bad idea. Besides, I didn't lie about the darn paper. I was up against a serious deadline. Edward took my complaint about needing time to finish it literally, and I did not hear from him up until now.

"Before you say anything," he said, ending the short, loaded silence between us. "I'm sorry Alice and I were such a pain in the neck at the store, but I hope you like the dress."

"Alice was great, and I appreciate her help," I told him sincerely.

"You know that she wasn't going to make you her employee, per se?" He still seemed concerned. "I don't want you to misinterpret her intentions. She was trying to help."

"She didn't offend me," I replied. "I was surprised how nice she was considering that she didn't know me at all."

"That's my Alice," he said proudly. "So, are you interested in working at her store?"

"Edward, did cyberspace eat my texts?" I chuckled. "Check your phone again."

"Your text said _maybe_. Maybe isn't a yes."

"It isn't a no either, but I haven't seen the whole offer yet," I teased him.

"The package includes several perks, you know," Edward informed me in a serious tone.

"Oh yeah, the employee discount, right?" I played along. "You know, even if it's half off, I probably can barely afford a sleeve on the cheapest dress in the store."

"Fair enough, but Alice wasn't always into high-end fashion, so she can teach you a thrifty way into it."

"Sounds appealing." I agreed. "Is that all I'd get for working there? A lesson on how to dress on the cheap?" I grudgingly joked.

"No, there is a much better bonus than that. If you get tired of hanging out with my sister, you can always hang out with me.

"As often as you'd like," he added in a suddenly hoarse voice.

"You should have told me that at the beginning. How can I turn down an offer with such amazing perk?" I laughed.

"Saved the best for last."

"Modesty is not your virtue, is it?"

"Among other things that aren't either," he noted darkly.

"I've heard that before," I quipped.

"Nothing has changed, Bella."

"And it still doesn't matter."

"How was your day yesterday?" Edward seemed all too happy to talk about something else. "Well, besides slaving over the English paper. Are things any better with your friend Jessica?"

"Funny you should ask," I muttered remembering the fiasco at the lockers yesterday.

"What's the matter?"

"I don't think Jessica will be interested in being around me any time soon," I said bleakly.

Edward waited for me to elaborate.

"I was asked to the prom yesterday." I figured he should know. Although, technically, I was available, it didn't mean I was undesirable.

"Hm-m-m."

What kind of response was that?

"The problem is," I continued, "I was asked by the one person Jessica really likes. And what was even worse, she was there when he did it. It was like he was doing it on purpose. Jessica was extremely upset."

"What about you?" Edward spoke up in a strained voice.

"Of course I'm upset too." Did he think that I'd be happy about my friend being heartbroken?

"You didn't accept the invitation?" _Oh, I see. Are we jealous? Good._

"No, I did not."

He mumbled something back. Did I want to know what it was? I decided I didn't, there really was no point.

I felt bitter about the fact that he couldn't take me to prom, but had to conceal it because one kiss at the back of the store, however significant it was for me, didn't make Edward my boyfriend.

"I'm sorry."

Definitely not the response I was expecting.

"What are you sorry for, Edward?" I asked feeling oddly rejected.

"That I can't give that to you. That I can't come with you."

"Would you want to?"

"Very much so."

"Then come," I offered impulsively. Knowing very well what he was going to say, I squeezed my eyes shut and started silently beating my forehead with my fist. I was such an idiot.

"You know it's not possible," Edward responded softly. _As expected._

"I guess," I acquiesced readily.

"Bella?" His voice was tense, foreign.

"Yeah." Could I sound any meeker?

"You need to live your life. Enjoy it."

"Sure," I said bitterly. Had I not been patronized enough so far? "That's exactly what I'm going to do. Go to the prom, dance until my feet fall off, and enjoy my life."

"Good girl," Edward murmured. _Fake_, I could hear the fakeness in his tone. I cringed.

"That's just it, Edward."

"What's that?" Fakeness was gone, replaced by apprehension.

"I'm this good, little girl for you. A blessing, right? Innocent to a fault." He told me so, I remembered.

"Don't say it like that, Bella."

"But it's true. That's how you see me, isn't it?"

He didn't answer right away. When he did, I had to make sure that I sat and breathed evenly, so he didn't hear how much his words affected me.

"I tell myself that it's the right thing to do. Some days I succeed."

"I guess I should congratulate you then."

"Oh, Bella, don't be so hasty. I am _trying_."

"Well, in that case I should wish you good luck." I scowled at the phone.

"Let me wish that you have a good time tonight instead. Please try." Was he smiling, happy to let me go?

"Yes, okay. I have to go. I have a long evening ahead of me and all, I need to get ready."

"Of course. Don't let me keep you."

_I wish you did. Keep_ _me._

But that was it. We hung up without making plans to call or see each other again.

xxx

With my feet spread, knees together, I sat on my bed, still undressed. My elbows were painfully digging into my thighs, and the familiar sense of self-doubt that always lingered in my chest squeezed my heart. The beautiful dress was still wrapped in a white plastic bag, and the shiny box with the shoes, still unopened, taunted me. I hadn't touched them since Wednesday.

My phone rang; the screen showed a number I didn't recognize.

"Bella?"

"Alice?"

"Yes, that would be me. I just got your message from last night, I actually expected your call sooner," she chuckled lightheartedly.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I know I'm supposed to bring the dress back. I will do it tomorrow. Please don't worry, I haven't even taken it out of the bag, so it's in perfect condition and the tags are still on."

"You haven't touched the dress. Why am I not surprised? Are you chickening out again?" Alice chastised me.

"Um."

"You know, you have to decide what you want and stick with it, girl. What do you want, Bella?"

Was she asking about prom?

"It doesn't matter what I want. Who cares? I mean, the dress is very nice, Alice, thank you again, but it's all a waste anyway."

"Why is that?"

_Because I'm going alone, because my best friend hates me, and because after my conversation with Edward this morning I have no idea where we stand. Not that it was ever clear._

I kept up my stubborn silence.

"You left me a message," Alice reminded me.

"I did," I conceded, like there was any point in denying it. It _was_ recorded.

"Cool, moving on," she said in a light tone seeing that I wasn't saying anything else, and not offended by it in the least. "I am going to take a wild guess about why you called. You wanted help with makeup and hair, right?"

"Uh-huh," I mumbled.

"Do you still want help?"

"Sure," I grumbled, sounding like an ungrateful brat. "I do, Alice, please." I softened my tone this time; it wasn't her fault that I was hopelessly crushing on her brother and was perpetually confused.

"Excellent. You need something dark red," Alice proposed immediately, as if she had already thought of everything well in advance. "Do you have red lipstick?"

"No, I don't," I admitted, ashamed by my bland choices in cosmetics. "All I have is a few lip glosses. One of them is sort of on the red side."

"Better than nothing. How about smoky eyes, do you know how to do that?"

Watching all those tutorials on Youtube with Jessica was about to come handy.

"In theory." I hesitated, not sure if I could pull it off. We did try though. Jessica was insistent, and I could probably find the video and watch it again if necessary.

"Well, start practicing!" Alice encouraged. "Now, for your hair. Blow-dry it straight, but don't overdo it. You don't want it too slick. Pull it all to the back and twist it into a bun. Do you have bobby pins?"

"Yes." I was trying to visualize what Alice was suggesting. It didn't seem that difficult to do.

"Good, secure the bun with the pins but make it loose, low and slightly to the side. You need to accentuate your long neck and show off the open shoulder on the dress. It'll be a great look on you."

"Thank you, Alice." Again, Edward's sister showed exceptional kindness and I had no words to express my gratitude. I couldn't understand why she was being so nice to me.

"You're welcome. Just give it a try, who knows, this evening might turn into something completely pleasant."

"I doubt it," I muttered. "But you're right, it's too late to back out. It would be shame to do it now. So, I'm going."

"That's the spirit!" Alice laughed. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

_Sure, Alice, do you mind giving me your address? I have someone there I'd like to retrieve._

"Alice?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Do you really need help at your store?" I decided that I wasn't ready to give up.

"I thought you'd never going to ask. Yes, the business is growing, and Vera has been complaining that she wants to spend more time with her son now that he is on summer break, so I certainly could use your help."

I perked up. "Oh."

"Would you like to come a couple of times a week? Pick your days, I'm flexible and Vera won't care as long as she gets her time off. We are closed on Mondays, though."

"Can I think about the schedule and get back to you? I can give you an answer when I bring the dress back." I needed to talk to Charlie, of course, and probably with Mike Newton's mom, my boss for the summer, because I didn't know my schedule there yet. All I knew was that I was starting on Monday, bright and early. Ugh, I was not looking forward to that anymore.

"There's no need to make an extra trip, I'm sure Edward can pick it up, no worries. So, you can just call me." Alice seemed to be happy with my decision.

"Oh, Edward doesn't know where I live. And it's no bother; I welcome any chance to get out of town."

"Huh." Alice's reaction puzzled me. "That's so unlike Edward." She became quiet.

"I guess, I wouldn't know. Edward doesn't share much. He is... I don't know. He's confusing me a lot." Somehow I was mumbling uncontrollably, spilling more than I meant to. "I was surprised when he offered to come to your store."

"I'm not. He goes out of his way when it comes to something he cares about. He cares about you, Bella."

A warm wave of pleasure rolled over me. Edward cared about me; it was so obvious that even his sister could tell. I hummed into the phone.

"How long have you known him?" Alice asked, unsuccessfully hiding the curiosity in her voice.

I thought for a moment. Edward didn't want me to talk about us to anyone, but did Alice count as _anyone_? Wasn't it Edward who brought me to meet his sister? I wanted to justify my need to talk about him—it was becoming more and more difficult to keep the questions and emotions I had bottled up.

I counted back the days and weeks, to the point when I met Edward at the book store. "Four weeks. We met at the book store, but only started really talking last week." _Has it only been a week?_

"I see." Alice's chirpy voice went up at least an octave. Whatever I said seemed to cheer her up exponentially. "Well, I'm glad Edward thought of a way to introduce us."

"Me too," I replied genuinely. Even if I was upset with him, I was grateful to meet his sister, who was somehow getting me perfectly.

"I have to go—new customers here. Have fun tonight, Bella."

"Thank you again, Alice."

"My pleasure, darlin'. Ta-ta for now." She laughed softly before ending the call.

I put on the dress, the shoes, and a silver necklace with a tiny drop in a shape of a heart in the middle – something that Alice had managed to sneak in the shopping bag without telling me. The first thing I noticed when checking myself in the mirror was high heels and lots of exposed skin. Then my hair came into view— it was a curtain down along my cheek, covering my shoulder. Alice was right, as usual, this hair-style was totally killing the off-the-shoulder idea of the dress. It took me a few tries, but I was finally able to pull my hair into a bun: low enough, loose and slightly to the side; it was pleasantly tickling my skin. I studied my reflection. Did I like myself in the mirror? Yes, I did. The smoky eyeshadow made my eyes look darker, deeper. My lips shined a light red. My neck seemed longer and so did my legs in the pumps. The dress was great. I looked great.

And I felt utterly alone.

I came downstairs at seven o'clock sharp and headed to the kitchen to say good-bye to Charlie.

"I wish Renee could see you tonight," he said getting up with the camera in his hand. I groaned. "Bella, I promised your mother." Charlie didn't let me object. "And you said yes too, so let me take a few pictures for her."

I struck a stiff pose, letting my father snap a few shots. I even smiled–if you could call it a smile.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride, kiddo?" Charlie lowered his camera, looking at me sympathetically.

I tried not to roll my eyes. We had already had this conversation at least twice since Sunday. "I am absolutely positive that I know the route to and from school, and I promise to come back sober." I raised my hand in a mock swear.

Charlie did something I never thought I'd see him do—he pouted. I should have taken a picture and sent it to my mother–it was so comical. My mood infinitesimally lifted, I kissed my father on a cheek. "Good night, Dad. I won't be long." And before he could respond I was out the door and walking to my truck.

When I unlocked and opened the door of the truck I smelled something strange, foreign in the cab. Nothing strong—just a hint of something floral and delicate—and only then did I noticed something else. My passenger seat wasn't empty. It was occupied by a long white box with a dark red ribbon artfully wrapped around it. Startled by the unexpected item and instantly on guard, I looked out and checked the street. It was empty—no one to greet me but the trees along the road that were swinging their branches like big, long arms, reaching in different directions. Hesitantly, slowly, I reached for the box. There was no question that it was a source of the strange, delicate smell.

_Charlie... _I smiled. With, most likely, Renee's prompting, he'd come up with another gift for me. If it wasn't a dreadful pink prom dress, it had to be... I opened a box. _A corsage? _I chuckled, amused. _Does anyone wear corsages to proms anymore?_

But it was beautiful. As I picked it up with my fingers, I noted two flowers, their green stems woven together and attached to a white bow with a delicate white, almost transparent satin ribbon used as a band. I studied the bouquet. One flower was a white orchid and another was deep-dark purple flower of unknown origin. The contrast in color, texture and shape between them was palpable. I brought the bouquet to my face, smelling it. The white one was sweet, almost overwhelmingly so, and I had to bury my nose into the purple one to tell its scent. It was sharper, muskier, more on the citrus side. The combination of the scents of these two flowers was incredibly alluring.

I slipped my hand through the elastic band and extended it out to look at the corsage again. It was truly exquisite. Only after resting my hand on my lap after I started driving did I realize that the flowers matched the colors of my dress. Of course it was Renee's doing— Charlie probably described the dress to her. Except, he hadn't seen it. I replayed the events of our shopping trip in my head for the millionth time and felt my breath hitch, again, as I remembered Edward: his insistent lips on mine, the sounds of his quick breathing, the strength of his arms around me, and his hips grounding against mine. I pushed those thoughts aside and recalled that Charlie came back to the store well after I was done with trying on dresses and the off-shoulder one was already covered in the plastic bag. Oh well, Charlie must have followed Renee's instructions and checked the dress yesterday when I was at school.

Once the corsage was out of the box, and just after a few minutes, the cab was deeply permeated by the strong, floral scent. You didn't need a perfume when you had the bouquet. To prevent the chance of getting a headache I opened the window for the rest of the way.

The parking lot was full. It seemed that, apart from my father, the whole town of Forks was present at the prom. Shaking my head, I walked into the building and quickly skirted through the hall, trying to be nothing but a shadow. I spent a considerable amount of time in the restroom, seriously regretting not having some sort of a paper bag with me. I kept readjusting my dress and hair and finally told myself that I needed to stop being ridiculous. With freshly reapplied lip gloss and with my hands in the pockets of the dress, I walked out to the hall. There were tons of excited students out there, who cared about me?

I uneasily touched the corsage on my wrist. Almost reflexively, I brought it to my face and inhaled the heady smell. For some reason, it grounded me, helping a plan form in my head. I'd stay long enough to talk to Angela and Ben, then walk around for a few minutes to make sure my presence was noted. Avoiding Mike, Tyler and Lauren was part of my plan as well. I wished I could talk to Jessica. Explain. Apologize. Joke and make her laugh until she believed that I was always genuine with her. But everything had its proper place and time. Here and today it wasn't.

My last hope was squashed when I saw Jessica walk in with one of her cousins, clearly as her date. She narrowed her eyes at me, and at that moment I knew that there was probably no chance for us to ever reconcile.

"Bella, here you are!" Angela greeted me, I turned to her and she reached to hug me. "Oh, wow. Damn, girl!" she gasped, her intention for a hug forgotten. She walked around me, softly touching the belt of my dress, the corsage and my hair.

"Ben, would you look at that?" she breathed approvingly, her smiling boyfriend nodded in agreement several times.

"Would you guys stop?" I blushed, pulling the fabric of the dress up my shoulder and the hem down to my knees.

"No, you stop!" Angela gently pushed my hands away. "You look stunning!"

"Oh sure," I muttered, flattered and embarrassed at the same time.

"It looks expensive, Bella. Rich uncle?" Angela joked.

Ben chuckled.

"Like you would know expensive," I argued defensively. I wanted to slap my mouth immediately for such mean remark. Why did I say that?

"Oh, trust me," she laughed, much to my relief, taking the joke in good stride, "I can tell class when I see it."

"Oh, _class,_ you say. I'll take that compliment, thank you," I replied appreciatively. "You're looking mighty fine yourself."

Angela glowed in response and twirled, showing off her long, silk dress in pale blue. "Thank you."

"I agree," Ben chimed in. "You, girls, have outdone yourself this evening."

"We didn't spend months preparing for this event for nothing," Angela declared and stuck her foot out to admire her strappy white shoes.

I couldn't disagree more.

"This will drag on for a while, ladies," Ben said, seemingly sharing my feelings. He waved at the students moving and bobbing around the middle of the gym floor to the beat of some poppy song. "I think I need a drink. I'll get some for you too."

"Bella, Tyler is looking at you like you're something to eat," Angela shared, nodding to her right.

"Oh God, no," I moaned. Without looking in Tyler's direction, I stepped behind Angela in attempt to hide.

"Oh no, you don't, girlfriend. Leaving me here exposed and hiding your beautiful self," she objected, pulling me by the arm back to her side.

"Lucky you! You have Ben," I complained.

"Oh, trust me I wouldn't mind having a dance or two with a couple of other guys. It's healthy." She winked.

Not for me. If Edward was here with me, I wouldn't want anyone else holding my hand or leading me on the dance floor. There would be no one else for me. I sighed.

Ben approached, handing us two cups. "Would you like some... of this crap?"

I accepted the cup with a smile, while Angela placed hers on the floor by the wall behind us. "Maybe later." She pointedly looked at Ben and then at the dance floor.

Ben smirked, lowered his head and rounded his arm gallantly offering Angela his service. He even clicked his heels. "May I have this dance, miss?" Angela giggled, linking her arm with his and batting her lashes flirtatiously.

I watched them take the floor and start to sway, shuffling from side to side. Their moves weren't that of smooth, graceful dancers, but of a couple attuned to each other, lost in their own world.

And just like that, I was done. Done with watching other people being in love, done with pretending to sip from the cup with the cider that had reeked of rubbing alcohol—apple missing—and done with this place, where even after six months I was still an alien. My dress felt too short, my feet ached in the new pumps, and entirely too much of my skin was exposed. I felt dozens and dozens of eye on me, appraising, judging: Mike, Tyler, Jessica, and her adolescent cousin.

I waited until Ben faced me and waved, calling for his attention. When he noticed me I gestured that I was leaving. He raised his eyebrows in question and said something to Angela, who turned to look at me.

"You're leaving?" she yelled.

"Yeah, yeah," I replied. I pointed at my feet and grimaced. My high heels were a perfect excuse for escape. Angela nodded, and not a few seconds later she was tossing her head back laughing at something Ben was telling her and lightly hitting his arm.

Tyler was striding in my direction with strange determination in his eyes. I wasn't interested in finding out whether I was his target for a dancing partner or he just desperately needed to use the restroom. Resolved not to waste any more time in this place, I ducked my head and dove for the exit.

As if it would be the cure, I stumbled outside, taking in a lung-full of mist and chill. I shivered, gripping on the metal rails of the stairs, not because it was cold, but because I had the feeling that I had driven myself into a corner. The door of the building slammed open and a flock of giggling girls spilled outside. They flitted down the stairs, ignorant of my presence and gathered behind the stairs, passing a pack of cigarettes around. After a few moments of dry clicking the striker and some stilted coughing, they quieted to whispers, still not able to suppress the occasional burst of giggles. Oh sure, being caught for smoking, wouldn't that be a thrill? The smell of smoke swirled around, reaching me. Afraid that my borrowed dress would smell like tobacco, I waved around myself, fanning away the fumes and began hobbling in the direction of my truck.

Checking the time on my phone, I realized that my plan wasn't as brilliant as I initially thought. It was barely eight o'clock and as far as Charlie was concerned I wasn't supposed to show up at home at least until eleven. As of this morning my house arrest was over and my summer of freedom had officially began.

My poor feet were being squeezed mercilessly in the new shoes, and my back had started to ache because of the high heels. Moving carefully between the cars in the parking lot, I thought with longing of my comfortable Chucks at home and chastised myself for not thinking of throwing them in my bag and leaving them in the truck.

I discarded the pumps as soon as I reached my Chevy and spent a few minutes massaging my numb toes. I was going to drive barefoot.

_But drive where?_

_Does it really matter?_

I cruised at steady speed of fifty on 101 North. The ribbed surface of the gas pedal tickled my foot, while the grinding feeling of the engine vibrated through me. I wished I could go faster, further; although, who was I kidding? At some point I would have to stop and turn around. Soon, but not just yet. I had my freedom, and I wasn't ready to go back to the town of Forks, back to my quiet room and my silent phone.

Something dark zapped in front of my truck, startling me. I slammed on the brakes, my body jerked forward, and my chest hit the wheel, making all air leave my lungs with a loud "omph". My old buddy Chevy didn't come with airbags, and my chest began to ache—inside and out— making me want to cry. Blame the stupid deer that decided to cross the road right when I was passing by. _Why did the deer cross the road? Because stubborn Bella didn't know when to stop, turn around and go back to her perfect, dull life._

It was still too early when I entered the town limits again. My makeup was gone, gone the effect of the smoky eyes, wiped by the back of my hand after a good cry. What was it with me lately?

It was just one kiss.

xxx

Be it because everyone was at the prom tonight, or because the town was always asleep by nine o'clock in the evening, the streets were dead while I aimlessly drove around.

I was deliberately avoiding our house; the closest I got was one street down from it. I had passed the street twice in the past fifteen minutes, and both times I noted the same car parked in the alley. Something about the car bothered me. It was shimmering under the soft moonlight, a white finish with jet-black windows. When I drove by the alley for the third time my eyes were on the glowing roof of the vehicle, and I slowed down almost to a stop, squinting, as I realized that the finish wasn't white. It was silver.

My heart thumped, telling me that there was something very familiar in that car hidden from prying eyes. I parked in the middle of the street, ready to leave the truck, when I remembered that I had no shoes on. My feet were swollen, and just the thought of forcing the pumps back on made my toes ache. Still, the mystery of the shiny car in the dark alley was beckoning me to come outside, and the lack of footwear couldn't stop me. I just had to be careful and watch where I was going.

I rolled my eyes at myself, annoyed by my impulsiveness, yet, I opened the door and carefully slid out, feeling the cold, rough ground under my bare feet. I gingerly walked to the silver car and tip-toed around it, the darkly tinted windows didn't offer to reveal any secrets, no matter how long I looked. I touched the hood. It was barely warm, so it had been parked here for while. Something gleamed behind the windshield, and I looked closer. Aviator sunglasses were left on the dash. Of course, who needed sun glasses at this time of the day? I already had a strong suspicion who didn't.

Springing back to my truck, I wrenched the passenger door open and patted in the glove compartment for the flash-light. Back at the silver, Volvo, I pointed the light through the window on the driver's side, checking the interior of the car. Black leather behind black glass wasn't helpful with the view, but one thing I could see clearly was a mangled radio, which meant only one thing—this silver Volvo belonged to Edward.

I gasped, straightening up. The flash-light slipped from my trembling fingers and fell on the ground, rolling right under the car. I bent down, hoping that it didn't escape too far, but with my crappy luck of course it did. If I wanted to get my flash-light back, I'd have to lie on the ground in my, no technically in Alice's white dress, and that wasn't an option. With a groan, I abandoned the idea, placating myself with the thought that the flash-light didn't have my name on it, so even if Edward found it, he wouldn't know it was mine or that I was here.

Edward, however, had been here, a block away from my house. Why? Did someone he knew live nearby? I shook my head, the possibility was slim. My gut was telling me that there was another reason and it had to do with me.

And then it clicked: Officer Diego Gomez had joked with my father about a silver car parked on our street last week right around the time I was talking to Edward on the phone. So, the sound of the moving car we both heard during that call was Diego's? Edward finished that call abruptly. He was here, and he didn't tell me. What else was Edward not telling me?

_A lot._

What else _concerning _me? It all started crashing down. His words small and big, here and there, the slip ups. He knew that I lived with my father and that my mom wasn't nearby. He knew what my truck looked like, although he had never seen it. Did he watch me?

Then on Sunday, he said 'It's only been a few weeks...' and quickly corrected himself to 'or rather days' when he spoke about his confusion about me. So our meet up at the book store wasn't an accident? Did he come to see me? Why was he so rude to me then?

I shook my head. It was all so strange, confusing, incomprehensible.

Where was he now? Was he somewhere close? I needed to see him, to talk to him, I had so many questions.

Still at Edward's car, I retrieved the phone from my pocket and started texting him, demanding that he tell me where he was. We _had _to talk.

I had just hit send when I felt a sting in the heel of my foot. I hissed, realizing that I had stepped on something that hurt more than just a twig poking your skin. Leaning on the hood of Edward's car, with my phone still in my hand, I shifted my weight to that side, lifted my hurt foot and reached for it with my free hand. The warm gush I felt pulsating under my fingers wasn't what made me still my breath and lean on the hood for more support—it was the smell. No matter what anyone said, I thought blood had a distinct, strong smell: rust, salt, and _hopelessness._

I was hopeless.

I knew it was a bad idea—the prom, the shoes—the stupid, shiny Volvo.

It all played before my eyes, like a slide show. The green stems of the flowers on the corsage, the pink of Jessica's wrinkled dress, the yellow of the mist surging in front of the head-lights of the truck, and the bright, bright red on my fingers. Even in the dark I knew it was bright.

Green. Pink. Yellow. Red. The colorful images kept changing, shuffling with accelerating speed, moving so fast, I couldn't keep up anymore. _Greenpinkyellowred_. The colors were mixing together, spinning and spiraling outward in a nauseating motion, becoming one ugly, unrecognizable hue.

Dark green?

Brown?

I couldn't tell. All I could do was concentrate on not breathing. But the pain was too smart, too piercing, so I gasped. The sickening, rusty smell filled my lungs and traveled through me, assaulting my overwhelmed brain right before my mind went blank, turning everything to one restful color.

Black.

* * *

**A/N: ** **In case you've been wondering, the chapter titles have everything to do with the deadly sins. Which sin are you guilty of the most? Envy? Pride? Lust? **

**Confession time. Review and I might confess mine. **

**Thank you for reading.**

**P.S. If you are not reading "Eden Burning" by Saluki168 (ffnet Id 6573674) and "Young Pilgrims" by ineedyoursway (ffnet Id 6562584), you must. **


	25. Chapter 23 Contritus

**A/N: Whew. That didn't take too long, did it? I know. I'm very sorry! The next chapter is well over half-done, so the wait time should be a lot shorter.**

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**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal. ****The question is why.**

* * *

**Chapter 23**

_**Contritus**_

_**xxx**_

_**BPOV**_

The reflection of the moon in the small puddle right in front of my face was perfectly still. The shining image of the half-shaped, vividly convex disc seemed so real I thought that if I reached for it, I could easily scoop it up. What was that saying? "Reach for the moon, land empty-handed." How very fitting.

I raised my head slowly from the ground, testing the feeling. It didn't hurt, although I couldn't feel the right side of my face, probably from lying on the cold street. How long was I out? How bad was the fall? Massaging the numb cheek, I carefully twisted sideways and sat up. I stretched, listening for signs of my body complaining. All parts seemed intact and working, with my faintly throbbing foot appearing to be the only damaged property. Unfortunately, a more thorough inspection of myself brought a lot less satisfying results. My hair hung in disarray over my shoulder—I must have lost a few pins when I collapsed; and while it was too dark to be sure, I didn't need 20/20 vision to see that my outfit was ruined. Oh dear God, that meant that Alice's dress was no longer in returnable condition. I groaned and palmed my face. Could my life suck any more than it already did?

I remembered that the last thing I did before passing out was text Edward. Did he text me back? Call? I couldn't answer that question because my phone was no longer in my hand. It was missing.

The loss of the flashlight under Edward's Volvo was an insignificant affair compared to the loss of my phone. The phone I had to find, even if it was buried under his car. Besides, I needed to walk back to my truck, and without any illumination it was proven to be a dangerous feat for a person like me. It was dark in the alley and the next lamp post on the cross street was too far away, offering little to zero assistance.

It was a really superb way to finish my evening, but I had no choice—with my dress ruined already, I figured it didn't matter anymore if I planted myself on the ground and fished for my flashlight. So I did. Of course, finding it became a 'mission impossible' task. I had to practically roll under the Volvo while looking for it, only to find it right behind the front wheel. In the process, I scraped my knee. Good luck to me explaining my glorious state to Charlie once I got home.

I wasn't going to cry.

_I was not. Going. To cry. Again._

How about that for a mission impossible?

My phone was found intact and without a scratch a few feet away from the car. No texts, no missed calls. Did I matter to _anyone_ at all?

Barely making out the contours of my truck ahead of me in the darkness, I limped towards it, pointing the flashlight at my feet.

Thankfully, I had a bottle of water and a dad who was a cop—Charlie would never let me drive a vehicle without a stocked up First aid kit in it. I washed my face first, doing my best to remove the traces of ruined makeup and tears, and climbed into my truck. Perched on the side of the driver's seat, I left my legs dangling outside, pulled the fabric of the dress up over my nose, so I wouldn't gag or lose it again at the smell awakened by the water, and did my best to wash the blood and dirt away.

Holding the water bottle and the light while doing the cleaning—all at the same time—took some effort. All the while I was acutely aware that I was only a short distance away from the Volvo and that Edward might show up at his car any minute. You'd have to be exceptionally unobservant or legally blind not to notice my truck on the empty street—even poorly lit as it was—and Edward was none of those things. So, I either had to hurry with the clean up and flee the scene or wait until he showed up and confront him. Maybe I _should_ wait and confront him. So what if I played _Harriett The Spy_ here for a minute? I failed and paid for it already. I defiantly told myself that I was on _my_territory, and it was Edward who was trespassing. Still, I couldn't help the anxiety gnawing at me, so I picked up my speed, and rushed through the cleaning process.

Once done, I inspected the injury. With the amount of blood that came out of it, you'd think I had at least a toe missing. Nope. The cut I discovered was right below the ankle on the inner part of my foot and looked so insignificant I didn't think it would even need stitches. Only I could faint at the sight of practically a scratch that was no more than a half an inch long. Ugh, I was such a baby.

"Bella?"

I dropped my foot and my head snapped up at the familiar voice. I guess all the rushing was pointless after all. Instinctively, I brought the light up in the direction of the sound of approaching steps. Edward's pale features, twisted in surprise and worry, came into my view. He was wearing dark jeans and a jacket, so his hands and face were the only spots visible as he moved toward me. My heart jumped to my throat, thumping a frantic beat at the sight of the one person I so desperately missed and yet was afraid to face.

"What are you doing here?" Edward walked up to me, opening the door of the truck wider. His glance bounced from the open First aid kit on the floor to my face, and he was instantly at my side. "Bella, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" His hands were all over me, checking, anxious.

I was too distracted by the feel of his quick, lithe fingers on my skin to answer right away.

"Did someone fucking touch you?" he growled, his concerned expression turned feral.

I shook my head. "No, no. No one hurt me. It's all my doing."

"What happened?" His eyes raked over my battered, dirty outfit. With regret I thought that Edward didn't get to see me in my pretty dress and sexy make-up.

Instinctively, I pulled the hem down and averted my eyes. "I fell."

_After I fainted..._Oh, details, details. I wasn't going to share _that_part.

"Jesus, Bella. You scared the living shit out of me. Are you alright?" His hand was on my cheek and he tilted my chin up to look at him.

"My foot," I mumbled, melting under his compassionate gaze.

"Which one?"

His fingers never broke contact with my skin. Grazing them over my arms and down my hips, Edward knelt before me, holding me by my calves and not letting me move. He looked up at me; his mouth was so close to my skin that his warm breath sent goose bumps up my thighs.

The genuine worry in his eyes and the intimate feeling of his hands on me, although in reality probably meaning nothing of that nature, overwhelmed me. I bit my lip, silently cursing my shivering body that made my reaction to him so transparent. I lifted and wiggled my hurt foot to distract him. It worked.

Edward gently palmed my heel, checking it closer. "What have you got here?" That touch was the sweetest kind of torture: gentle, firm, hot. It sent sharp, almost painful prickles all over my body.

"Move your toes for me, baby," he requested.

I obeyed.

"Hmm, seems okay to me. Where does it hurt?"

"I stepped on something and cut it," I rasped in a shaky voice and pointed. Why was I so weak? "I don't handle the smell of blood very well." _Always weak._

"Blood smells?" Edward took a gentle sniff through his nose as if testing that theory and shook his head, smiling at me. He motioned to give him some more light and when I complied, he proceeded to inspect the damage on my foot. I wanted to tell him that it was really nothing to worry about. But as he touched me, carefully, tenderly, I held my breath, allowing myself to simply be in the moment, watching in fascination as the gleaming red of his hair turn different shades of the deep hue, recognizable even in the sparse light. "If it does, I never realized it," he said with dark amusement.

I pulled myself out of the trance. "Of course it does, just like everything else our body produces." I over-shared as usual.

"_Tears_ don't smell," he offered thoughtfully, quietly. He was still looking down.

"Oh, but they do," I argued.

"Interesting." Edward glanced up at me and dropped his eyes back to my foot. As he reached to the First aid kit, his lips brushed softly over my scraped knee - was it accidental? - and retrieved several small packets. He used the alcohol wipe to clean his hands and then opened another, holding it in front of me.

"This will sting a little," he said. "I'm sorry."

I pressed my foot into his hand in approval, and he quickly swiped over the cut. The burning made me jerk and hiss. He didn't let me go and immediately started blowing cool air on the sting. "Better now?" He looked at me apologetically.

I could suggest that a kiss would be the best cure, but I doubted Edward would appreciate my lame joke, so I simply nodded.

"So, tell me." He tore the wrapper off the band-aid in a practiced motion. His moves were swift, sure, and I gripped the flashlight watching him, mesmerized. I was glad that my own hands were occupied, otherwise it would be difficult for me not to push them into his hair. Not only was I dying to feel its softness again, I couldn't guarantee that I would be able to resist pulling Edward up to me, because there was no question that I really, really wanted him to kiss me again.

The flashlight bounced in my faltering hand when his fingers smoothed the band-aid over the cut.

"All done, baby, sorry," he murmured, sensing my discomfort again. "You were saying?" he encouraged me and reached to the kit again.

"I was saying that the latest studies show..." I watched warily as Edward retrieved yet another packet from the kit. "That while women's tears have no odor, they produce a chemical signal that repels men."

"Is that so?" he mused in an even voice. His eyes shifted to my knee again and narrowed, focusing on the scratches. He removed a piece of gauze bandage from the package, dampened it and gently brushed it against my skin, cleaning the scrapes.

"Yes," I assured him, trying not to grimace at the contact of the rough material with my sore skin.

I was going to pay for this. Knowing how distant Edward was the last time we talked, I fully expected him to send me home as soon as he made sure I was okay. Therefore I had nothing to lose.

"You'll never see me crying, Edward," I vowed, ignoring the sting of the antiseptic cream he applied on my knee.

Edward snapped his eyes up to meet mine. "I don't want you to cry, ever," he responded in a quiet, firm voice after studying my face for a long minute. He slid his fingers down to my calves, tightening around them protectively.

I felt the air shift between us, thickening with intensity. Edward straightened up, finally breaking contact with my skin, and smoothed his hair back with his palm.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes darted away.

"You keep apologizing," I noted, wondering what it was this time.

"Yes. Although just saying the words doesn't fix anything."

He always spoke with such desperation and finality, and it always made the pull that I felt towards him stronger. I tried to resist it this time as the dull throb in my foot reminded me about the reason why we both ended up here. Well, at least I knew why I did.

"Did you get my text?" I asked when our silence became unbearable. "I sent it to you a bit ago."

He finally looked at me. "No." He paused. "My phone isn't on."

"Didn't want to be bothered tonight?" I questioned, although it wasn't really my place to ask.

He just shrugged.

"Important business in Forks?" I pushed again, hating the biting tone of my voice. Acting rude wouldn't earn me any points, but I couldn't help it.

"Bella." That was a warning, but it only riled me up more. Edward was in my town this evening, close to my house, and he didn't tell me. I cut my foot and fainted while searching for clues about him. So, he would have to duct tape my mouth shut at this point to stop me from asking him for the answers I needed.

"Edward, that's your car over there." I audaciously gestured to the alley. The Volvo was hidden in the shadows, unseen from afar, but there was no denial in Edward's pose when he took in the news that I discovered it.

He nodded. "I already figured out that your presence in such close proximity of it isn't a coincidence."

"As it's probably not a coincidence that your car is in such close proximity to my house, is it?" I countered.

Edward looked at me sharply and bit the inside of his cheek—a mannerism I already knew indicated great discomfort. The conversation was promising to become unpleasant, and he was bracing himself. I did the same.

"Have you been following me, Edward?"

He reacted by letting out a small chuckle that had no trace of humor in it; it sounded haunted. "That's not what I'd call it, Bella. But yeah, I've been… coming around here."

He hunched his shoulders, dropped his hands to the sides and froze as if expecting me to kick him in the gut or push him away.

He was so wrong.

I extended my hand to him and brushed over the knuckles of his tight fist. We both flinched at the charge of our touch, but neither of us retracted our hands. "For how long?"

It seemed to take him great effort to look me in the eyes, but he did and held his gaze. For some reason it made me feel better. "A while."

"Did you watch me? At my house?"

I hated the guilt in his eyes, in his entire posture, when he nodded.

"Have you... You've been coming here often?" I asked again.

"More times than I'd want to admit, Bella. I couldn't help it." It wasn't the confession itself that struck me to the core, but the raw sound of his voice, choking on those words. "I can't stay away. I should've told you. Myself. I should have..."

"Edward, please." I couldn't stand the painful pleading emanating from him. Besides, I had my own secrets to confess. "You don't know this, but if I had your address, I'm telling you, I'd go to your house to check out about you too. I seriously considered it, especially after I found out where you live. I googled Maple Grove and bookmarked the map. So, you see, we are even."

"Oh no, Isabella Marie Swan," Edward objected slowly, firmly. He placed his hands on the top of the truck, hovering over me. "This is where you're wrong."

"You know my full name," I observed, tilting my head back to look at him, exasperated.

"I know a lot more than that about you."

"How... How did you..."

"Forks High School doesn't protect its students' privacy very well," Edward offered before I could finish forming my question, clearly baiting me. "So, you see, we are far from even, Bella."

We'd have to talk about that; we'd definitely have to talk about how far Edward went with something that should be setting off loudly ringing church bells in my head, warning me of danger. Yet, somehow, I wasn't creeped out or scared, and that concerned me more. I needed to think about it, consider the seriousness and the magnitude of the discovery I had just made about him. But for now... I pondered something, chewing on my lip and weighing the presented opportunity.

"Well then," I replied, making up my mind and narrowing my eyes at him. "We have to fix that, don't we?"

He slowly leaned down to me so his eyes were on the same level with mine. "You fascinate me, Bella," he said with wonder. "You give me too many chances. Why?"

_Why_, I sighed. Because I felt that it was the only choice I had. Because I was desperate for him to see me as a mature and capable adult. Was it something I could say out loud without starting an argument? I doubted it, so I just gave my shoulder a single shrug and retorted half-jokingly, "Why do you lurk around my house?"

"Because I'm a fuck up, and you make me want to be the exact opposite," he suggested in one breath, as if he was waiting for that exact question—too ready for it even.

I winced. "I think you're unnecessarily harsh on yourself. Why do you keep doing that?"

"I'm only trying to be honest with you, but you're not listening. You never listen. What am I going to do with you?"

"I won't change my mind." It came out like a threat, and I felt a furious blush heating up my cheeks. "I think you're good. You're good _to me_," I added softly.

"No, it's all you," he protested, smiling wistfully. "You make me want to be a different person. Better. Except, it's not possible, Bella."

"Stop pushing me away, Edward. It won't work," I objected flatly.

"Yes, it would." He pushed himself away from the truck, from me, trying to create a distance between us. "If I was strong enough and stopped intruding into your life."

"Then I'm glad you aren't." I dropped the flashlight somewhere on the floor without looking and reached up to him. Twisting the sides of his shirt between my fingers, I pulled it to draw him back to me.

Edward staggered, and after a moment of hesitation, he placed his hands over mine and carefully pried me away. My nails scratched over the seam of his shirt as I futilely tried to grip on it, but Edward's hold on my wrists was firm. Regardless of what he said, he was stronger than me; I was the weak one. _Small. Needy._I sucked in a quick breath when instead of releasing me he brought my curled fingers up and brushed his lips gently over my knuckles. Only then did he reluctantly let me go.

It was childish of me, or maybe it was just the fact that I couldn't fight my constant craving for physical contact with him, but as I dropped my hands to my lap I caught the fabric of Edward's jeans just below his knee between my thumb and pointer fingers. Imperceptibly, I rubbed on the soft, well-worn material and then held more tightly to the small patch, desperate to feel if not him, then at least something of his. Something tangible. Even though my hold wasn't strong enough and the pinch of the fabric between my fingers was so insignificant a slight jerk could break it off, I still reveled in the feeling of somehow staying connected to Edward, counting every moment it lasted.

I stilled: holding, waiting, listening—to Edward's uneven breathing, to my tense body, every muscle taut, ringing in anticipation. _Say something—do something. This can't be it._

As if in answer to my thoughts, the white of Edward's pale hand flashed before my eyes before he reached for my cheek. I exhaled loudly and immediately relaxed against his warm palm. I looked up at him, trying to read his expression, and met his eyes. Their dark gaze bounced to my hands, back to my face and steadied on my bottom lip locked between my teeth.

Edward pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, sighing, and switched from one foot to another. My fingers were empty again, and I couldn't suppress a quiet, embarrassing whimper of protest. He heard it. I knew he did because he groaned and took a small step toward to me; his hands fell heavy on my shoulders.

"Why is this so painful?" he asked softly, sounding resigned.

"I don't know," I answered honestly, parting my knees more because I wanted him to get closer. For a short, weak moment, I thought about wrapping my arms around him, just to feel his warmth once more. His hands in my hair– it would feel so good. _Right._ It would, but another rejection wouldn't. "It does feel like that a lot," I admitted, the aching longing resonating in my chest.

He shook his head. "It shouldn't, Bella. You should feel light and free, like you can do anything you want in the world." He tried to take a step back.

"No, wait," I blurted out, clutching at him again. He stiffened.

I thought for a moment, watching him breathe raggedly. His fingers were digging in my arms. He was going to push me away for good; I knew it and couldn't let that happen.

"Listen," I begged, "I know how you think of me. I know you're not sure what to do with me. I understand it all, and I am not asking for anything. I mean, look at me." I scowled at my ruined dress draped around his legs, at my bony, scraped knees and bare feet. Who could possibly want this winning package?

I took a shaky breath, determined, and the words started tumbling out of me. "So, look. I promise not to create any problems. It'll be easy as breathing for you. I'll be your friend if that's what you need, okay? I'll be at Alice's store every week, and you can come any time when I'm there, or call me whenever. I can be a good friend, I swear. I won't ask for anything in return, ever. Just…" I blinked a hot tear away, giving up on being discreet anymore. Whatever it took, he had to…

"Just stay," I whispered. "Please."

Edward groaned again. "Do you not hear me, Bella? Do you not understand what you mean to me?"

His hand slid down to my wrist, the one with the corsage. He brought it between us and fingered the already wilting flowers on the ribbon, then traced my skin along the elastic band.

"Where did you get this?"

I hesitated. "My parents. I think."

"You think?" He gave me the lopsided smile that never failed to take my breath away. His thumb moved over and pressed on the most sensitive point on my wrist, as if he wanted to check how wildly my blood coursed through my veins.

I stared at him, completely transfixed; the words stuck in my throat. He gazed back at me, and the smile on his lips grew wider, probably a reaction to my bewildered expression. He leaned into me, bringing his free hand to the nape of my neck, pulled me closer and softly kissed me on the corner of my mouth. And just like that, not for the first time tonight, my mind went blank. All thoughts vacated at once, leaving a hollow buzz in their place, and all my senses rushed to the spot where Edward had his lips rested. He moved them down and repeated the kiss, this time on my chin.

"Hmm." He breathed out slowly. As slowly as was the movement of his mouth trailing a path up to my lips, barely brushing over them, and then drifting back down to my chin again. "Isn't there a corsage custom?" he asked, his breath tickled my skin.

I made a small sound and tilted my head, intoxicated, and yet needing more. Edward circled his fingers around my neck tighter. His warm lips stopped next to mine, and he whispered against them, "Isn't there an etiquette for these things?" With my brain on permanent vacation, I couldn't come up with an adequate response. Edward backed up slightly to look at me again, and his eyes shined. "Isn't there a tradition for _a boy_to bring a corsage to a girl to show his admiration and declare that _she is his_for the evening?" He kissed me again, under each eye, still very softly, torturing me with his words and light touches, and with the minty, sweet smell of his breath.

"I... I'm not sure. Yes?" I couldn't remember my name at that moment, let alone talk about corsage customs.

"Bella, the corsage is from me," he breathed into my ear. "I'm that boy for you this evening." He looked at me, smiling. "You wore it all night, and you were mine, even if you didn't know it."

My eyes flew open and my lips parted, letting out a small gasp. He groaned and kissed the bottom one before sucking on it gently, tasting it briefly with the tip of his smooth tongue which somehow helped to soothe the heavy ache around my heart that seemed to never leave.

"But if you want to be friends..." Edward pulled his face away despite my desperate attempt to hold him right where he was. "I won't ask you for more. It will be only what you want, nothing else. Although, you have to know that I almost broke into your truck today to make my intentions for you clear." Edward kissed the side of my jaw—chastely this time—and his eyes searched mine for an answer to his unspoken question. He froze, waiting for me to react. He wasn't going to move forward until I made my choice one way or another.

I listened to my heart beating loudly, wildly in my ears. Wasn't it loud enough for Edward to know what the answer was? I wasn't lying to him—I would have settled on us being friends, if that was the only way he'd have me—but oh, I wanted us to be so much more.

I wanted him to touch me again. I wanted to push my hands under his shirt, straddle him, and kiss him until we were both breathless. I wanted all the things with him that I had only been imagining in my fantasies during my sleepless nights, but I also recognized that Edward had given me a certain opportunity here, so I suppressed my impulse to jump on top of him. We needed to talk first.

Taking a deep breath, I slid across the bench, and ducked my head looking at Edward in invitation to join me in the truck. He nodded in understanding, climbed inside and pulled the door closed.

In an almost synchronized motion, we turned to face each other and brought our feet up, tucking one under another. Our knees brushed against each other, my bare skin against the soft fabric of his jeans. We sat for a few long moments in complete silence, simply looking at each other. The moon shone through the window, which gave out some light, but not enough to be able to see details clearly. The outline of Edward's ashen face seemed sharp in the dark surrounding him and his eyes were black, gleaming. As if he just remembered to breathe, Edward inhaled deeply and looked down at his hands. I felt the same way—not sure what to do with mine, I fidgeted, pulling and smoothing the dress over my thighs.

The flashlight was still on the floor where I dropped it earlier. The battery was dying, casting a weak light directly on our feet. The tip of Edward's black sneaker was touching my toes. Once again, I felt exposed, vulnerable. I wished I was in my old jeans and a t-shirt. Even the familiar interior and smell of my own truck didn't provide any comfort. I sighed quietly and leaned into the back of the seat, willing myself to relax—and failing. Maybe inviting Edward inside was a foolish idea, as were my expectations for him to answer my pesky, invasive questions. I had just promised him not to be a problem, so why was I sitting here pumping myself up for a conversation that was going to be anything but easy? Why couldn't I just let it go and let the chips fall where they may?

Well, I just couldn't.

I hated myself for being a liar earlier. Nothing was easy. It couldn't be for many reasons, and I was a fool making such promises.

A feeling of dread and sadness turned my stomach into knots. I was a socially awkward girl who had trouble handling such simple things as prom and high heels. And I sucked as a friend. What was I doing here? What could I offer Edward?

"Bella?" Edward twisted closer to me; I felt his intense gaze while I struggled to make eye contact with him. "Are you okay, baby girl?"

No I wasn't, but he was right here for me. His deep, caring voice, his outstretched hand, and the waves of energy coming off his body—powerful, threatening to consume me, yet addictive. Edward was the only person I knew who ever made me feel this lost, but at the same time so special.

That feeling was not something I was willing to give up, so I raised my eyes to him and nodded.

"It's too dark in here," he murmured. "I hate it that I can't see your face well." He brought his hand to my face.

His touch against my skin was feather-like. His fingers hovered, soft pads brushing over my lips and moving to trace gentle circles under my eyes. "I've missed your sweet face, and your freckles. I think I'm obsessed with your freckles." He smiled defenselessly.

My whole body flushed in response to those words. And to his bone-melting touch. _Yes, Edward, go ahead and steal the last coherent thought I tried to hold on to._

My soft bones and a pounding heart were all I had left in me.

"Breathe, Bella," he reminded me, sounding worried, probably because I hadn't taken a single breath for an unusually long period of time. "Talk to me, please. What are you thinking?"

I exhaled loudly, scrambling to piece a response together, and tried to focus my eyes on him. "I'm very confused, Edward," I finally spoke. "This is all just... strange. And you're not helping."

"I know." He cleared his throat, but didn't offer anything further. I was still on my own.

I chewed on my lip while searching for the right words to make him understand how lost and frustrated I was. "You kissed me the last time I saw you," I said, instantly breathless at the memory of us in the stock room: Edward's hands on me, his burning lips. "You were... it was incredible... to me."

A slow, soft smile appeared on Edward's face. "It was."

"But this morning..." I swallowed thickly, watching Edward leaning closer to me again, hanging on my every word. "After our call, you left me with almost no hope. I wasn't even sure if we would ever talk again."

He dropped his gaze to his lap and pulled back, running his hand roughly through his hair.

"Edward?" I called, and only spoke again when he raised his troubled eyes back to me. " The corsage is beautiful, thank you."

"So are you, sweet girl." It was too dark for him to see the violent blush of my cheeks, but he probably sensed it, because he added soothingly, "And you're welcome, I'm glad you like it."

"I'm sorry. I can't let this go," I said, finally mastering up the courage to act on my resolve.

It came out somewhat cryptically. But sometimes it felt like Edward could get into my head, listen to my jumbled thoughts and decipher them better than I could myself. He did it again. The recognition passed over his features indicating that he understood what I meant.

The slow nod he gave me was followed by him lowering both feet to the floor. He sat up straight, body turned to face the front window. He placed his hands on the wheel and stilled, waiting. Maybe it was good that he was looking ahead and not at me. This way, it was easier for me to ask him what I wanted.

And I did.

"Edward, what do I mean to you?"

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**A/N: Almost broke into Bella's truck? So eager... Any ideas how Edward got inside? **

**The story has a thread on Twilighted, feel free to throw your ideas there. Reviews, however, are the best thing. Thank you for reading.**

**A rec for you today: "The Dark Muse" by Alby Mangroves, ffnet id# 6559902 – it's dark, masterful suspense, and the writing is exquisite. Alby makes me want to be a better writer.**


	26. Chapter 24 Softplay

**A/N: We argued, Bella and Edward won. They seem to think you'll appreciate this chapter. I sure hope so. Let me know?**

**You guys rock my world with your reviews, thank you! Please remember that I'm not able reply to the anonymous ones, still, thank you for being so kind to me. **

**Twitchling and Saluki168 - my wonderful, patient betas and philadelphic - my pre-reader - thanks for sticking with me and helping. **

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal. The questions is why?**

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xxx

"_Edward,_ _what do I mean to you__?"_

xxx

**Chapter 24**

**Soft-play**

_**BPOV**_

Edward stared ahead and stayed silent for so long, I started to think he didn't hear my question—or chose to ignore it. I guess I knew there was that possibility. Hopelessness licked my insides; and if earlier this evening it was like salt and rust, this time I could recognize only bitterness in its taste.

I steeled myself, getting ready to somehow live through the next few minutes of rejection and final goodbyes because in my mind Edward's refusal to be honest would be equal to a rejection, and a girl could only take so much of it. Knowing that I had reached my limit, I realized that it was quite possible that this could be the last time I saw or spoke to Edward ever again.

My eyes were glued to his face as I tried to commit ever detail to memory: his handsome profile, the spiky halo of hair around his face, and his long, pale fingers.

When he turned to look at me and began talking, I was almost shocked.

"More than you know," he spoke up softly. "I've been on emotional roller-coaster, without a break, since I met you. Are you familiar with the feeling? First you're thrilled, then you're nauseated, then you get that jerk again and your gut is back up in your throat."

"It doesn't sound healthy, Edward," I whispered.

"It's disconcerting." He glanced at me. "But you know, some people go for it over and over again. It's like a drug."

"I'm your drug?" I frowned, not sure if I should feel flattered.

"You're my light." Edward dipped his head in concession. "You can't blame a person for needing light in their life, can you?"

I couldn't help my reaction to his words. My body shifted, I leaned into him.

"You need me," I mumbled, enjoying the warmth rapidly spreading inside me, and pressed my forehead into his shoulder, feeling the muscles contract under my touch. The smell of the fabric softener and smoke mixed with a hint of deodorant—all Edward—only added to the assuring affect his words had on me. _Edward needed me_.

He tilted his face toward me, smiling. "I think that's been glaringly obvious."

I snorted softly, disagreeing.

"I hated myself for turning you down this morning," he said into my hair, inhaling deeply. "I did it with the best intentions."

"It hurt," I admitted.

"I'm sorry." He gingerly ran his fingers over my arm, down to my wrist, brushing over my knuckles. "There was nothing more I wanted than to spend this evening with you, but coming to prom with you would be an exceptionally bad idea. You know that too, right? I couldn't do that to_you_."

At that moment, I saw clearly what Edward was saying, and he was absolutely right. It would have been a big commotion if we came to prom together. Too many questions, too much gossip, and I could only imagine what Charlie would think. I'd probably be shipped to Florida on the first available flight.

I lifted my head to look at him. "You're right."

"I know I am." He smiled sadly. "At the same time, and I know how selfish it sounds, the thought of you dancing with other boys, of someone else looking at your face up close, close enough to taste how sweet you really are. The thought of someone else's hands around you..." He huffed and straightened up, lacing his fingers together in a tight grip. I watched him fixedly.

It was hard to believe, but it was clear as day that Edward was jealous, and the sight of him cracking his fingers and shaking his head in exasperation brought a wide smile to my face.

"You know, you didn't have to worry about that because it wouldn't have happened. I don't dance," I told him. "I can't dance to safe my life."

"Oh?" He visibly relaxed. "Well, that's a shame." His eyes sparked in amusement. "But I bet I could teach you, I'm actually very good."

"I don't doubt it," I laughed.

"In fact, I think it's my turn." He quirked his eyebrow at me.

"Your turn for what?"

"Haven't you noticed? Every time we meet, we exchange a lesson of sorts. Stone-skipping, bike riding."

"Ugh... Edward? Reciting the Washington State Motorcycle Safety Laws doesn't count as a lesson," I chastised him, relaxed enough to be able to tease him. "I didn't get to actually_ride_ the bike, if you remember well."

"Oh, I remember. That's because you didn't play fair and kept distracting me." Edward cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. I smirked, recalling my ruse to get his attention by flaunting my_Juicy_ backside while sitting on his Harley.

"It was worth it," I countered. "I'd do it again if given a chance." Whatever had come over me to be able to say those things and be so brazen, I would never know but judging by Edward's reaction, he wasn't appalled or displeased by my admission. Quite the opposite.

"Is this some clever plan to take over my Fatboy?" He eyed me in a mock exasperation. "We already discussed it before, and there is no way I'd let you ride it by yourself."

"Because I'm too short?"

"That's right."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, Edward."

"And it's too heavy for you."

"Okay." I flashed a smile.

"Okay?" He squinted at me one eye with suspicion.

"You look surprised."

"I expected you to fight me on this."

"Rules are rules. Besides, I'd feel safer with you," I confessed. "I know you won't let anything happen to me."

"Whatever is in my power, Bella, I'd do it," Edward said gruffly, taking my hand in his. "It's insane how protective I feel over you."

"I like that." I bowed my head, encouraged by the idea that I induced such strong emotion from him. "A lot."

"You didn't ride it today, why?" I asked. "And why did you park your car here?" Since the gate was open, and Edward hadn't shut me down so far, I planned to ask a lot of _why's_ and _what's_.

"The Harley is too loud and conspicuous," he answered hesitantly.

Seeing that I wasn't satisfied with that response, Edward slumped against the back of the seat; his face moved away from the moonlight into the shadow of the corner of the cab, making it difficult for me to read his expression. "I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention to myself."

"Obviously, you didn't do a good job, because I was able to spot you, and in the dark," I quipped.

"We are really talking about this, aren't we?" Edward shook his head at my stubbornness. "No way around it?"

"I won't force you." I gave him a tight smile. "But you asked me to trust you and I think it's only fair if it's both ways."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I wish it was that simple."

"It can be with me. Just... try."

Edward turned to me, moving back into the light streaming from the window. Emotion I couldn't place flickered in his eyes; the tight line of his mouth softened. He inhaled deeply and shifted back closer to me.

"You really like it?" He nodded to the corsage.

"Yes." I smiled appreciatively. "Alice helped you choose it?" I guessed.

"Err. No... And that's the thing." He eyed me for a moment; I waited. "I called a bunch of florists in the city, and only one agreed to make it today on such short notice. The florist kept asking me about the design I wanted. Like I fucking knew. She suggested that it should match the dress, but I haven't seen your dress! You and Alice were so secretive about it."

I giggled remembering how his sister and I taunted Edward at the store.

"I panicked and ended up calling Alice. She made fun of my idea; she was brutal, actually."

"What did she say?"

"Not something I'd want to repeat here."

"Come on, you can tell me. It can't be that bad."

"_Madonna called and wants her fingerless gloves back_," he said in high-pitched voice, mocking Alice, then shuddered.

I doubled over laughing.

"See, I told you." He crossed his arms on his chest, looking displeased.

"I'm sorry, it's a good one. But you're not that... archaic," I tried to assure him.

"Right. I don't care. I had to do something for you after being such an ass."

"All you needed to do was call me. Talk to me."

"Well, I meant to once I got the corsage. Or maybe not. Fuck. I don't know. I was all over the place."

"So, you talked to Alice," I reminded him, not letting him clam up on me again.

"Yeah, she wasn't very forthcoming. She sent me to look for 'ff's and 'zeros'."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hexadecimals for colors."

I started laughing again. "That's not weird at all."

"You just don't know enough about me and my love for codes and riddles."

"I can learn if you let me." I searched his eyes, looking for affirmation that he would.

He smiled and I took it as a yes, even if it was a wishful thinking.

"So you guessed almost right: white and dark purple. It's not black, but close enough." I brought the flowers to my nose; the scent they gave out was fading but still present.

"Oh, I _did_ guess right. Except..." He muttered something else under his breath, but I didn't catch it.

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

"Aren't you the one who hates when people mumble?" I demanded, slightly peeved. "Speak up."

He frowned at me. "I was saying that I wouldn't have gotten a black flower for such occasion, even if it does exist. But it would be very fitting."

"Why?" I protectively palmed the corsage because I had already guessed the answer.

Edward looked at me intensely. "White is pure, bright, delicate. Just like you. "

"Don't, Edward. Stop it." I didn't let him finish his thought because I didn't want to hear where he would go with the 'black'. "To me, it's a beautiful arrangement that matches my prom outfit. The fact that _you_ brought it for me makes it even more precious—that's the only meaning I care about."

"Okay," Edward whispered. He leaned into me and traced the pads of his fingertips across my cheek. "Thank you for that."

I closed my eyes briefly. "Why did you leave it in the truck and not tell me?" The question took away the tenderness from the moment but didn't ruin it completely. Edward still held his hand at my face, his expression was of marvel.

"Well, the corsage was supposed to be a surprise, if I were actually to go through with it. I had so little time I wasn't sure how I was going to do it." He looked at me, grimacing apologetically. "As soon as I finished with the florist, I got a call from my employer. They had an issue with the latest release, and they needed my help. To be honest, I don't remember ever being so thankful for a distraction as I was at that moment . I dove right into it. When the florist informed me that the corsage was ready for pickup, I was a neck-deep in troubleshooting. Everyone was freaking out about the buggy code and the deadline, and the pressure was on me to figure it out. It looked like it was going to take me hours at best. So, I took it as a sign that this wasn't meant to be." Edward pointed to my wrist.

He meant the corsage, but to me it wasn't just about that. The thought that Edward was avoiding coming to see me hurt more than I expected.

"You never told me what you do," I mumbled, happy that Edward had given me new information to concentrate on. But at least he was being honest with me. At least I was learning something, even if the truth stung. Because at the end of the day it didn't matter. Edward came. He was here, telling me he didn't want to settle on being just friends if anything were to happen between us at all. And I started to believe that there could be.

"I code," he answered my question. "I work as an independent contractor. My hours are flexible, which is important to me, since I prefer to be my own boss." He scowled at his own admission.

"You don't like to answer to other people?" I asked, trying to reconcile the simple information with the sudden chill in his tone. "Have a problem dealing with authority?"

"No problem with the _authorities,"_Edward's responded wryly. "Although obedient citizen I am not."

He was obviously still beating himself up over visiting Forks without telling me.

"I wouldn't claim to be such either," I agreed lightly, appreciating the humor of the double entendre, and decided to play it up a little too. "Obedient citizens attend boring parties and don't snoop around cars."

"You did that, didn't you?" Edward guffawed, "You were checking my car here?"

"Uh-huh." I scrupulously studied my nails in the dark. Darn, I meant to paint them this afternoon and completely forgot.

"How did you find me?"

"I wasn't exactly looking. I left the dance early but didn't want to go home, so I drove around."

"I shouldn't have done it, but I ended up going to your school, hoping to catch you," he shared.

I looked up at him in surprise. "You did?"

He nodded. "Missed you only by a few minutes."

"But you said that we shouldn't..." I shook my head; Edward was as confusing and contradicting as ever. "How did you know when I left?"

"Uh." He rubbed his chin, darting his eyes away. "I overheard two boys talking in the parking lot. One was looking for you and seemed very upset when the other told him that you had just driven away."

"Oh no," I groaned, tilting my head forward to let my hair curtain my face. I was almost positive that Edward was talking about Tyler and Mike. What else did he hear?

"It appears that he thinks he has a whole summer of opportunities to win you over," Edward answered my silent question. "That thought seemed to cheer the boy up considerably."

_Yep. One of them was Mike for sure. Is he going to ruin every single relationship I have?_

"I'm sorry," I whispered, bringing my head lower.

"Why are you sorry, Bella?" Edward ran his fingers over my shoulder and gently touched my chin. "Look at me, please."

I did, but only for a moment. I was too embarrassed.

"It was no typical ignorant bragging. Obviously that the boy has a serious crush on you, and wants your attention. And fuck, I'll admit, it wasn't easy for me to hear, but it was a private conversation. It's not your fault I was in the wrong place at the wrong time," Edward explained soothingly. His voice was gentle, but his admission made my heart skip a beat.

"I know," I fumbled. "Still..."

"Those are just boys. Talking." He slid his fingers down my neck and brushed across my collarbones, making me shiver. "Hoping to claim something that is not theirs. Not if I can help it."

I snapped my head up, recognizing the familiar notes of possessiveness in Edward's voice. Those words were definitely not of a person who wanted to be friends with me. My heart soared at another confirmation.

"I wish I knew you were coming," I whispered, regretting every single moment I spent without him this evening. "I wish you had called me. Why didn't you?"

"I was about to when I got to the school, but let's just say that I didn't take well to those boys' conversation, and my phone fell victim. I couldn't call you because it was no longer in working condition." He sighed.

"You broke your phone?"

"I smashed it." He hung his head. "Acted like a complete fucking moron."

It wasn't exactly funny, but I snickered, secretly agreeing with his self-assessment for once.

"And what happened next?" I asked.

"I drove here, parked my car and walked straight to your house. I hoped you went home and not somewhere with... I don't know... someone else..."

"You could have told me about your plans," I said accusingly. We could have avoided a lot of heartache today with one simple call.

"I didn't want to take this experience away from you, Bella. I figured that I'd catch you after you'd spent some time with your friends. I thought I had a perfect plan. "

"What about the corsage? When did you bring it?"

"Ah yes, that." He shifted on his seat. "Like I told you, it looked like I was stuck with my latest project for a while. It probably would have taken less time, but I kept thinking about you. And it was irritating the fuck out of me, because people depended on me and they were waiting while I wanted nothing else but to be where you are."

Edward went silent; he started tapping his foot on the floor, threatening to step on my shoeless toes. To calm him, I pressed them over his sneaker and smiled. He looked down, smiling back apologetically. "Sorry."

"Please, Edward," I whispered, needing him to tell me the rest.

"So yeah..." he said, "at some point I convinced myself that I wouldn't be able to see you tonight. The corsage... I just needed you to have it, you know?" He took a deep breath. "So, I dropped everything and drove to Forks late this afternoon. I was going to make it really quick. When I got here, I parked my car at this spot and walked up to your house. Your father was home; well his cruiser was in the driveway, so it wasn't hard to guess. I couldn't just knock on your door, Bella. I was afraid to cause more trouble for you. I thought about calling you and asking you to come out, but look how it turned out the last time you left to see me on a whim."

I nodded, agreeing that the past week was a week from hell as far as curfews were concerned. Although it had also turned out to be the most amazing time of my life.

"And if I did call what would I say?" Edward kept explaining. "_Hey Bella, I have something for you, could you come downstairs while your father's watching us?_ How would that end?"

"With someone heavily injured or dead," I joked.

Edward shivered. "Exactly. Showing up was a bad idea. To be honest, I secretly was relieved that your father was home. I left the corsage in your truck."

"But how did you get inside? I know I locked it. I always do."

"You lock it, but you often leave the vent window open on the passenger side." He glanced at me, checking my reaction, but I wasn't going to comment on the fact that he knew such tiny details about my habits until he finished. Although he was right—I often found my passenger seat wet from rain because I kept forgetting to close that darn little wing on the side of the window. I kept opening it because the cab always smelled of oil and moldy vinyl in the morning, and I didn't have enough muscle to roll down the windows each time. It was annoying, to say the least

"So, there I was with pretty much no options and with very little time to act before I was caught," he said.

"And you were going to break into the truck if the window was closed?" I mused.

"I was. But I would have paid you back for any damages, Bella." Edward was quick to assure me.

"What if you got caught?"

"I cared very little about that—a lot less than I should have."

"Why? Why all this trouble?"

Edward sighed. "Bella." His index finger began drawing a complicated pattern on my arm, touching the corsage each time it passed over. "My biggest problem is my inability to stay away from you for more than a day. Look what happened on Wednesday after I didn't see you for three days."

I tensed. _Wednesday?_ Edward kissed me on Wednesday, did he think it was a mistake?

"Can you walk?" he asked all of a sudden.

"Walk? Sure... walk where?" I stammered, surprised at the change of topic.

"To my car."

"Been there, done that," I muttered with disdain.

"Come on, I have something for you. A small surprise."

I hated, _hated_ surprises. And I couldn't wait to see what Edward had prepared for me.

With a sigh, I probed around on the floor for my shoes. "Not sure if it's a good idea, Edward," I whined. "These shoes almost killed my feet, and with that cut, I'd rather not put anything on." I felt like such a noob.

Edward flashed a mischievous smile, amused by some inner thought.

"That's okay, because I have a solution." He quickly pushed the door out and jumped down. "Stay where you are," he commanded seeing that I was about to follow him outside.

He jogged around the truck to my door and pulled it open. "Come here, baby," he murmured and without any additional prompting scooped me out of the cab.

I squealed in surprise. "Edward, what are you doing?"

He laughed and adjusted my weight in his arms, pressing me more firmly to his chest.

"Hold on tight, little B," he instructed and pushed the door of the truck with his foot to close it.

Holding tight I could do. Gladly. I readily wrapped my arms around Edward's neck.

"You feel so light—I could carry you for hours," he breathed into my hair.

"I don't think I would object to that," I said into his chest, enjoying the sound of his heart against my cheek.

"B, I've got something for you, promise me not to argue with me about it." We reached his Volvo and he carefully lowered me to sit on the hood. "It's nothing big."

"You keep giving me things."

"Get used to it." Edward looked at me daringly. I arched my eyebrow at him, and he added quickly, "You need to let me."

I bit my lip and nodded, loving the promise in his eyes.

He walked to the trunk of his car, quickly retrieved something and came back to stand at my feet.

"Alice joked right after you left that the shoes she sold you are hot but not comfortable, so I grabbed something for you on the way here."

And with those words, he removed something from the plastic bag in his hand.

"Flip flops?" I asked, not believing my eyes. "Are you serious?"

"Paid a whooping five ninety nine at the local Mart, on sale," he said, extremely proud of himself. "Barely broke my bank."

Congratulations to me, I was a cheap date—or whatever it was this time again.

"Oh yes, you and your bank," I chuckled, enjoying Edward's gleeful expression. "You've outdone yourself tonight."

"Why, thank you. Allow me, Cinderella." Edward reached for my foot, and I stretched it out to my Prince Charming.

"You know," he said, holding the sandals steady for me so I could fit the band between my toes. "This reminds me when Alice twisted her ankle a couple of years ago. Some fucker stole her purse, and she chased after him. Unsuccessfully."

"Oh, that's terrible!" I gasped.

"It was at first," Edward agreed. "She was in a lot of pain, couldn't walk for a few weeks and mourned her ruined shoes. She wore this kind for a while when she got better, and hated it," he shared. I wasn't sure where he was going with this story, but if he was trying to make me feel better, it was working.

"Did they catch the thief? "

"Her boyfriend did. Well, he wasn't her boyfriend then, but that's how they met. He beat down the asshole who snatched her purse and took Alice to the hospital."

"Oh, that's kind of romantic, isn't it?" I sighed.

"I see it differently," Edward responded grimly. "But yes, he was there for her while she was healing, and they haven't parted since."

"I think that's sweet," I argued.

"I don't know what to think when it comes to those two. At first I thought he took pity on Alice. Sometimes people get together because one takes care of the other and they bond in the process, you know? But he seemed into her from the start, and Alice crushed on him hard, which was good but scary at the same time."

"Why?"

"Alice is... sensitive and wears her heart on her sleeve. People take advantage of her," Edward said slowly.

"Aren't you an over-protective brother? I bet you set the boyfriend straight."

Edward glared ahead, his expression turned glum. I guess, it wasn't as funny as I thought.

"Is Alice still with that guy?" I asked.

"Yeah, he latched on to her—all of us—pretty good."

The negative connotation in his words made me think that that glimpse of information could be one of the pieces to the puzzle about Edward's family. Was Alice's boyfriend the reason why Edward was so apprehensive about sharing anything about them? Was he afraid that I would judge him or his sister? I cheered up thinking that if that was true, he had nothing to worry about, because I would never judge.

"Yeah, so..." he interrupted my reverie. "It's all kind of complicated."

"You don't have to explain it to me," I spoke candidly, wishing with all my heart that Edward believed me. He needed to know that I wasn't going to pry about something that didn't concern me and him directly. As much as I wanted to know everything about him, I had to respect his obvious need for privacy.

It was a fine line, which at some point I was probably bound to cross, but as we looked at each other, a wordless understanding passed between us. If I were ever to cross that line it would be on certain conditions, and it would be up to me to accept or reject them, but I wouldn't be the one setting them.

Yes, Edward was right—it _was_ _complicated_—but I was willing to do anything to keep that guarded expression from appearing on his face again. And right now, with the exception of a crease on his forehead, I saw no shadows darkening his features. He was here and he believed me.

I raised my hand and glided my thumb over his eyebrows, watching that crease of worry disappear, replaced by the web of small ones around his eyes. He was smiling, hesitantly, softly. And then it slowly turned into a crooked, foxy grin.

"I have something else for you," he told me and winked.

I blinked, startled by the quick change in his mood, although it was so _Edward_.

"You must be kidding me." I flailed my hands in disbelief. If Edward thought he could keep buying me gifts, he had another thing coming.

"Would you just stop huffing at me, B?" he chuckled, seeing my strong reaction. "Actually, go ahead, be mad. You look adorable," he teased me.

"Oh, I'm mad." I turned to the windshield of the car to hide my smile, and pulled at the wiper. The blade easily came away and I quickly snapped it back to the glass; I've done enough damage for today already.

"B?" Edward called quietly.

"Yeah?" The intense look on his face made me stop my ministrations. Everything stopped.

"I want to kiss you again," he said softly, and those simple words sent a wave of heat through my body. He leaned towards me, waiting for my response. I guess I never answered his question, and all this time he was waiting.

"Edward?" I bent forward closer to him. Our faces were inches apart.

"Mmm?" he hummed, looking at my mouth.

"Don't ever ask me again," I told him.

Incomprehension and disappointment was written all over his face. I smiled, and feeling very bold, pulled him to me by the collar of his shirt. "Kiss me now and never stop."

We both moaned when Edward closed the distance between us, bumping knees, tangling arms, and tugging on my hair. The fury of Edward's mouth on mine didn't just take my breath away; it set my skin on fire.

"Sweet," he grunted into my mouth. "How can you be so sweet?"

I couldn't explain what his words did to me, I could only show him. With that thought, I groaned reaching for his neck and pushing my fingers into his hair. In response, he captured my mouth again, sucking all air out of it, out of my lungs, and I had gladly, eagerly given it all to him. Because what I was, whatever I had, was all his. And because I didn't want him to question it ever again.

He licked my bottom lip. I sucked on his top in return. He pushed me back, and I leaned on the hood using my elbows, feeling the metal bend under my weight, while Edward's hands gripped my ass, pulling my hips into closer contact with his. We kept kissing and moaning against each other, and for a brief moment I considered opening my eyes, because I wanted to see the expression on Edward's face. I wished I could see mine. I was sure it was a picture of sheer exaltation. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered how short my dress was, and with Edward between my knees it had ridden up, barely covering my hips. Should I have been worried about it? Maybe.

Was I? Not really.

In fact, it felt like there wasn't enough contact between us. With another swivel of his hips, I felt how hard Edward was against me. He wanted me. I made him feel that way. I smiled, ecstatic, against his lips and pushed into him harder. I couldn't do much because I had no purchase for my feet, but as soon as I tried to bring them up so I could wrap them around Edward's hips, he stopped.

I moaned, disagreeing, clutching to his arms, still propped on my elbows. But the moment was gone before I could voice my disappointment.

Edward shook his head. "I'm sorry, baby, we have to stop."

_What? No we don't._

He pulled me to sit down again. "We have to or we'll go too far."

_How far is too far?_

I was sure Edward wasn't going to take advantage of me right here on the hood of his car. So, what he was saying was pure nonsense. I scoffed quietly and licked my lips, feeling how tender they were just from a few minutes of intense kissing.

"I'm a big girl, Edward, and know when to say no."

"And if you had done so, I would have stopped immediately."

"Well, I didn't, so..."

"So, I had to do it. I also didn't want to ruin one perfect surprise for you."

"I was pretty content with the one over there." I gestured to the hood and bit my lip. How did it happen that I was sitting here, with my dress up my thighs, practically begging Edward to touch me more? I had no shame.

Edward leaned to me and I involuntarily puckered my lips to meet his. He chuckled. "So, it was a good surprise?"

"Yes, up until certain point." I pouted when I only received one small peck.

"How is our knee here?" Edward bent down all of a sudden to level with my knees and kissed my scraped skin, making me gasp. _Ah, another good surprise._

"Uh... a lot better now," I admitted breathlessly, feeling a new surge of desire shooting up my belly.

"What about here?" he rasped again and brought my foot higher, circling his finger over the inner bone of my ankle. "Does it hurt?"

I didn't answer, watching him lower his lips over the bandage. The kiss was very light and so reverent, I shivered. My hands shot straight into Edward's hair.

"Edward."

He came back up. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Your surprises drive me crazy."

He grinned. "Then I hope you'll love the next one."

He lifted me off the car and gently lowered me to my feet. "Stay."

Quickly opening the door on the driver side, he ducked inside. The engine purred to life a few seconds later, and the low-beam lights immediately illuminated the ground in front of the car.

"Here." The black leather jacket I knew so well was pulled over my shoulders, followed by Edward's arms hugging me.

I leaned into him murmuring thanks, relishing the feeling of his warm lips kissing the top of my head. He swayed us from side to side.

Without worrying about dropping the jacket, I reached towards Edward and wrapped my arms around him.

He hummed more and turned us slightly, still swaying. I smiled into his chest, surprised to hear so clearly the loud beat of his heart; I noted in awe that it matched the tune of Edward's hum.

"What is that melody? It sounds familiar," I asked as we moved stepping from foot to foot.

"It's Strauss, waltz."

"Can you play it?"

"I used to, yes." I heard longing in Edward's voice.

"Will you play it for me sometime?"

He didn't answer right away; we kept swaying, turning. He finally nodded. "If I ever play anything again, it will be for you."

"Thank you." My voice wasn't above a whisper, but by a tighter squeeze around my shoulders I knew he heard me.

Edward continued his melodic hum as he slowly moved us around. "My mom taught me the basics of dancing," he told me a minute later. "And she firmly believed that a true gentleman should know how to waltz.

"The steps are called the _box step_, for the pattern created on the floor as you dance," he told me. "Look."

Edward extended my right hand in his left while he drew me closer to him, bringing my body flush with his. I looked up to his face; he was smiling encouragingly.

"We step backward," he sang in a low, throaty voice as he pulled me back with him one step. "We step to the side." He made our bodies move together again, and I made another step following his. My feet were barely touching the ground, Edward held me so tightly. "And now the step to bring your feet together."

I followed the instructions again.

"Let's try again, sweet girl." He inhaled deep against my hair, kissing my temple and sending warmth down my cheek. "Step forward," he hummed. "Step to the side. Feet together."

In response I sang quietly too, trying to get into the same tune with Edward.

"Just imagine that you're drawing a box with your feet on the floor. Watch them: backward, one, two, three; then forward, one, two, three."

But I wasn't watching our feet. I was looking at Edward's beautiful face, at his moving mouth, into his shining eyes. Moving was easy because Edward wasn't letting me go. Where he went, I followed. Effortless.

"You're dancing, my Bella," he whispered between the hums. "It's _my_ face next yours." His nose traced my skin along my cheek to the jaw line.

"_Your_hands around me," I finished for him, basking in his adoration.

Our kiss this time wasn't frantic. We didn't stop moving, our knees and hips touched with every step, our fingers intertwined. Our dance was slow, languid, and so were our lips and tongues. Exploring, learning, savoring. It wasn't feverish or rushed, but for some reason it only made me burn inside more, made the ache in my belly and chest stronger. My need for Edward growing.

"We'll take it very, very slow, sweet girl." Edward exhaled softly after another long, searing kiss. He lead me carefully, reverently, never parting his mouth from my skin. It was at my ear now. "See: step, two, three, step, two, three. _Slow_."

* * *

**A/N: I'm taking a deep breath and advise you to do the same, there will be a little bit of jump in time in the story. I intend to pick up the pace. **

**I hope you find the time to tell me if you enjoyed this chapter. It has been the most joy to write. **

**Thank you for reading. **


	27. Chapter 25 Prevarication

**A/N: Thank you for sticking around and supporting the story. I have every intention to finish it.**  
**Dear Jessterday, unfortunately, I can't reply to your reviews, but I do cherish them all. Thank you.**  
**My betas twitchling and Saluki168 are the best, and so is my pre-reader philadelphic. **  
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**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal. The question is will they get away with it?**

* * *

_"We'll take it very, very slow, sweet girl." Edward exhaled softly after another long, searing kiss. He lead me carefully, reverently, never parting his mouth from my skin. It was at my ear now. "See: __step, two, three, step, two, three. Easy. Slow." _

xxx

**Chapter 25**

**Prevarication**

_**EPOV**_

And slow we went.

At least I tried. With Bella it was torture and bliss all at the same time.

Torture was not being able to see her every day. Bliss was kissing her senseless every time I did.

Torture was remembering that she was still seventeen, that she had another year of high-school, and that I had to say no every time we got too close to crossing the line. Bliss was to have Bella's hands, soft but insistent, under my shirt and in my hair.

I loved Bella's hands in my hair, which was strange for me. I used to detest when anyone touched it; Alice didn't count. But with Bella I craved it. Every time I greeted her, I'd immediately bring her arms to my shoulders, longing for her to link and twist her fingers at the back of my neck, while I'd cup her face and kiss her until we were both out of air. She was unaware of it at first, but she quickly figured out my weakness, and from that moment on her hands were in my hair almost constantly. That was bliss.

Torture was watching Bella drive home in her old ratty truck and knowing that the next morning she would go to the Newton's store to work all day with the boy who had a crush on her. Driven by insecurity, I'd text her silly things throughout the day, like weather forecasts from different parts of the world, funny calendar quotes and cheesy pickup lines. She laughed at me and called me unoriginal, although I knew she secretly loved my unoriginal-assed jokes. That was bliss.

Torture was knowing that I wasn't worthy of Bella's affection, of her adoring fingers, ardent kisses and sweet freckles. Bliss was the drowning feeling that consumed me every time she laid her trusting eyes and exploring hands on me. Bliss was having her feverish lips all over me, eager to give me a little more each time. Torture was letting her and not ever getting enough. Torture was feeling that it could end any day and counting every euphoric moment as though it were the last...

Torture was going on dates with the pink girl at least twice a week and then reporting the progress to my family. Torture was admitting that there _was _progress and the feeling I was trapped in a hell of my own making.

xxx

The girl was back in pink today–pale, yawn-inducing, flat. I almost missed her orange overalls.

"Sounds like we have the same boss. Mine is a complete dumbass." I was making it up on the spot, already knowing how much the pink girl liked talking about our jobs. With my job being to encourage her to talk about hers, it was a win-win situation for the most part. Except the part where I fucking loathed the situation.

"I know, right? How did we get so lucky?" She turned to me, flashing her chicklet teeth.

I snorted out a sound that was supposed to show my agreement.

"It infuriates me when he comes to a meeting and acts like he's the shit." She kept the chatting up. "Last time he asked me why we can't just plow the code through one of our automated programs, let it catch the bugs and _squash _them." She started laughing.

"Squash them!" she repeated, shaking her hands in the air in disbelief and laughing harder. "That was his big funny of the day. He expects us to sit there at every meeting and laugh at his bullshit jokes. What an asshole. I mean, the guy can't tell the difference between _ViewStateMAC and ViewState, _can you believe it?"

I shook my head and gave out an empathetic chuckle, working hard at displaying how fucking funny I thought she was while faking my complete incompetence on the subject. I had to constantly remind myself that to her I was _a Marketing guy _and to act like I hardly knew what she was talking about, although she openly loved my rapt attention to her little stories and shared them almost a little too readily. The pink girl was a bragger.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Her hand rested on my thigh again, and again I made every effort to not shift away.

We were in the parking lot, sitting in my car, and it was raining. I rubbed my forehead. What the fuck could I do that would involve fun and the pink girl? _Absolutely nothing._

She wasn't bad: not horrible looking by any standards, admittedly intelligent, and we had at least two things in common. We both knew how to read and write code, and we both knew what it was like to deal with someone very close to you being sick.

Yet, I resented our commonalities.

I was used, just like her, _because _I was a good coder, and I wouldn't be here in the first place if it wasn't my fault that my family needed the money. As a result, I was plotting to steal it with her help and without her knowledge, as in ruefully setting the girl up and possibly getting her into serious troubles. As if I didn't have enough weight on my shoulders. What was s a little more?

I shrugged, smiling to her. "Wanna see a movie?"

Seeing the spark in her eyes I instantly questioned my offer. There was nothing worse than being with a girl, who you were on an official date with, in a dark room and having to keep pretending that you were interested in the movie so much that you ignored every hint she dropped about wanting to be touched. The moment the lights went off, the pink girl lifted the arm rest, shifted closer to me, and linked her fingers with mine, promptly making me tense as fuck and hold my breath. She took it as a good sign and laid her head on my shoulder, snuggling into my side. She smelled like medicine. And cats.

I didn't think I breathed deeply or moved a muscle during the entire movie.

When the credits started rolling, she stayed still, probably waiting for me to do or say something. I squared my shoulders and carefully lifted my arms, stretching and yawning, and leaving the pink girl no choice but to move. She wasn't looking at me when we both got up. I tried to smile when she finally darted her eyes to me, but we both looked so fucking awkward, I had no idea where we could go from there. I was wondering why she even kept accepting my stiff advances. Didn't the girl have any pride? I guess Jasper's assessment of her was completely true–she was lonely and desperate. All I had to do was to exploit it, whether I liked it or not.

I fucking didn't, but who was asking.

As part of my brilliant plan I hinted early on that I was fresh off a very painful breakup. You'd be surprised how much distance and sympathy you could earn with that simple statement. I was riding that excuse for as long as I could, showing the pink girl that I was interested, but not ready to jump into new things. She acted understanding and patient. She wasn't a good actress, though. Unlike me, she was ready and was constantly failing at staying subtle.

Within several weeks after our first lunch together we had a resemblance of routine going on. There were no more meetings at the mall; I stopped going there, citing my busyness at work, and we moved to evening activities.

I was counting them all. Today was a date number nine, consisting of dinner, a movie, polite conversation, and light flirting. It was way past eleven already, and I knew that I wouldn't get home earlier than 3am with the amount of driving I had to do to get back to Maple Grove. Another exhausting night for me.

I found parking two blocks away from her apartment building, since I offered to walk her home today instead of parting at my car. We walked past the school and a fenced-in basketball court. I could hear the steady bounce of a ball and loud cheering. The pink girl pinched her shoulders together, muttering something. She was embarrassed by her less than swanky neighborhood and the drunks in the schoolyard. Like it was her fault. I asked for permission to smoke and sucked on it greedily, swallowing down the sympathy I wasn't supposed to feel.

"The movie was good," I mumbled to keep the girl from staying in awkward silence. I needed her talking.

"Wasn't it though?" She was happy to agree. "The ending was really sweet. I was kind of expecting it to suck. Thank you for the dinner, too."

"I was hungry." I shrugged, smiling, and bumped her slightly with my shoulder.

"You could've fooled me."

I raised my eyebrow at her but didn't argue. The truth was it was hard to maintain an appetite with the constant feeling of queasiness deep-seated in my gut. I had started counting the minutes until the date was over from the moment I greeted her in the parking lot of her office building this evening. I didn't like going there, but when she asked me to pick her up I had no excuse to refuse her.

Fuck, _the girl loves to chatter_, I noted once again, taking my time finishing the smoke. It was a good thing because I didn't have to speak a lot while getting a heap of information from her. About the waiter who was so nice to bring her water just the way she liked it–room temperature. About the movie she wanted to see next. About the politics in her office and who dated who while breaking the company policy, and how Ray–the Server Engineer guy–hated the late shifts because his girlfriend was too insecure and jealous. _Errrrr... Stop right there. Rewind._

"Oh, I'd be jealous too," I piped in, wiggling my brows. "Late shifts are a shitter on relationships." I tried to sound smooth while feeling the level of acid raising to a painful level in my stomach. I was discussing relationships with the pink girl. I was discussing relationships with absolutely the wrong girl.

_Don't fucking go there. Keep it blocked._

I turned to look at the pink girl, who seemed to like my comment about jealousy a lot. She laughed and slid her hand under my arm, pressing herself against it in a hug. Yep, lousy actress she was indeed.

"Don't worry, Willie," she murmured into my sleeve. l winced at the intimacy in her tone and suggestive nestling, but using my fake name was also a timely reminder for me to stay focused.

"I don't work the graveyard shift too often, but it's good money, double-wage. Otherwise I'm on-call and rarely get bugged," she informed me.

"Well, that's a relief," I muttered.

"No late shifts at all this week," she shared.

That was a hint I had no right to ignore. Only a complete moron would pass on that clue. As she turned her face up to look at me, I read it clearly in her eyes that she wanted me to kiss her. The thing was, I had to take the girl up on her offer. It was time to make that move, and after stringing her along for the past several weeks, there was no excuse to avoid it any longer. None left. Besides, I was _supposed _to grab the opportunities when presented. This one was precisely it.

Holding my breath, I crooked my neck down and touched her cheek with my mouth, brushing my hand over her shoulder.

"I had a good time, thank you," I murmured, hoping that would be enough, but of course it wasn't, her pursed lips and confused eyes were a telltale sign.

Cursing myself inwardly, I pushed down repulsion twisting inside me and pulled her closer to me, my hand on her shoulder squeezed it firmer. "I will see you soon," I whispered into her ear.

Smiling at her, I tugged the corner of my mouth just the right way to fluster her. It kind of worked, but not in my favor, I realized as she leaned into me with a dreamy expression spreading on her face. I froze. My hand on her shoulder was no longer pulling her closer, it was holding her in place instead. I knew in my mind that there would be no more fucking kisses tonight.

But the girl had a different idea. "Do you want to come up?"

_No._

"Sure, thank you."

Because I _had _to, I reminded myself. I could no longer prolong the inevitable and I couldn't afford it, either.

The pink girl chose to not take the elevator. For a reason, of course. Quickening her steps, she walked ahead of me, glancing back to make sure I followed and _watched _her. There was a deliberate gait to her hips as she took each step up the stairs. I had a smile of amusement on my face whenever she looked at me, I had made sure of it.

We both were out of breath as we finally reached her floor, and the minute we stepped into the apartment I was greeted by the heavy smell in the air–too familiar–despair and medication. The pink girl looked at me apologetically, noticing my frozen stance at the entrance.

"My mom is in another room, so we'll have to be quiet," she warned me solemnly.

I nodded, definitely relieved by the news that there was someone else in the apartment. Jesus, how low had I sunk if I considered the presence of her _sick _mother as good news?

_Maybe hers has a chance, _I thought grimly.

_Maybe you're making it worse for them, _suggested the hyena-like voice in my head.

_I don't have a choice anymore, _I tried to object.

The high-pitched voice laughed derisively in my ears and I hissed to shut it up.

Pressing her finger to her mouth in warning to stay quiet, the girl lead me through a small, square-size living room. I glanced around: a worn-down brown love-seat, a glass coffee table, a small rug, barely covering the surface under the table. A lonely looking floor lamp in the corner shedding a cold, florescent light. No family pictures or artwork on the walls. No books. No TV. The room had nothing but the bare necessities. _Have they really got it that bad? Yes, that's what sickness does to you, you stop caring about a lot of irrelevant shit__–__or simply can't afford it anymore. _

I clamped down the pity that was about to sprout out of control in my chest. The pink girl was about business. I just had to be quick and make it clean. And at the end of all of this fuckery, I'd make sure that she and her mom received a hefty check from an anonymous donor. That thought didn't exactly make me feel better. It just helped me concentrate and suppress the rest of the feelings that threatened to take away my ability to do my job.

Leaving me in the kitchen to drink some shitty coffee the girl disappeared, "to check up on things," which gave me a chance to look around.

The place held nothing interesting to lay my eyes on: a small coffee maker on the counter, a toaster that wasn't even plugged in, _two_ cups and a cereal bowl turned over to dry on the dish rack. The plastic torn off the paper_ t_owel roll was crumpled on the table, and a few packets of sugar had been thrown half-hazardly next to it. No knick-knacks, no salt and paper shakers, no signs of food–not even the usual rotting-brown banana you could probably find in every kitchen's fruit bowl. There was no fruit bowl, either. Everything here seemed sterile... Uninhabited. Even a few yellow post-its stuck on the fridge looked like an afterthought. I decided against checking inside the fridge, but noted a phone number on one of the stickers and quickly entered it into my phone. _Just in case_.

The girl was back a few minutes later, her face smooth and eyes tired. She smiled shyly and I just knew that her bedroom would be our next destination. I followed her in silence, my heart stone-dead and heavy under my ribs.

The bedroom was very simply decorated as I already expected: a quilt-coverd twin bed, a computer desk with a laptop by the window, and mostly empty, white walls except for the _Matrix_ and _Kill Bill _movie posters above the bed. So, not only the girl was into sci-fi, which didn't surprise me, she also liked crime thrillers, the bloody ones. What did it say about her personality? It said that I needed to do what I was slated to do here and get the fuck out before she got her ball and chain unleashed on me, _GoGo Yubari _style.

If I had any illusions before, seeing this depressing, poorly furnished apartment sobered me up completely. The pink girl's life was shit; she didn't have a lot to lose, but she clearly had something to fight for. I had no doubt in my mind that she would fight dirty if she got cornered, but I wasn't here for shits and giggles either.

It was finally showtime.

I busied myself with my phone, setting in motion the next step of my plan. She excused herself to go to the bathroom. I hesitated before nodding grimly, because why would a girl dim the fucking lights all of a sudden and whisper about needing 'just a minute to freshen up'? But I wasn't going to worry about that. Before the pink girl could even try to get hers, I was going to get mine; and hopefully that would be the end of it.

"Hey." I paused, inwardly stumbling on her name, not being able to bring myself to say it out loud. She stopped, waiting at the bathroom door. "The reception here is shitty, can I use your computer to check my emails?" I unleashed my sexy, smoldering gaze on her.

"Sure." She only hesitated for a moment. "Here." She walked across the room to the desk and opened her laptop. I kept a safe, respectful distance. I even looked away when she, with a quick work of her fingers, entered the password and logged into her computer.

"All yours." She smiled. "I'll be right back, just need a quick moment."

"Take your time," I responded.

_No really, take all the time in the world. _

The second the bathroom door clicked behind her, I plopped myself on the chair and pulled the laptop closer to me. I wished I could click around and take a good look, or have enough time to copy the content of her system files and documents, but that would take a while which I didn't have.

I plugged the USB key in, praying the port wasn't blocked. With a mix of anxiety and hope, I watched the icon on the taskbar of the computer come to life; a little message popped up informing me that a new device had been recognized and the driver was being installed. It finished its job with a distinctive soft chime, telling me that the USB drive was now available. Less than two minutes later I had a small, virtually undetectable program activated on the pink girl's laptop that was designed to detect and log every single keystroke. Another step of my mission was accomplished–from this point every entry on her laptop would be logged, and I'd have to wait for a new opportunity toretrieve it. I'd have to give it at least a week to collect enough data to work with.

"I'm sorry, I just got a text from my friend," I lied the instant she came out of the bathroom–her expression was full of hope and anticipation. I blurted it out because I wasn't an idiot, the girl absolutely had certain expectations tonight.

"His car broke down, and I need to go get him."

Her face fell. "He doesn't have a Triple A or something?" she asked.

"His insurance sucks," I explained patiently, making sure I sounded sincerely apologetic. "The highway tow service will cost him a fuckton to haul the car to his house. So, they're pulling it to the closest shop, but then he's on his own to get home."

My lie was so blatant that it wouldn't take a genius to pick it apart. Starting from the fact that I just complained about my shitty signal to even receive a text, not to mention that my imaginary friend could theoretically take a taxi home.

"Bros before hos, I get it," she shrugged, trying not to look upset.

"Like you'd leave your friend in need," I countered.

"Your friend is lucky."

"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck, ready to get out of there, and placed a final glance at the laptop, mostly because I wasn't comfortable looking at her disappointed, wistful expression.

My heart plummeted. _Shit. Fuck!_ My USB key was still plugged into the laptop. I was so elated with the success of my little installation that I completely forgot about removing the thumb drive. _What a fucking moron!_

"Well. I hope there's nothing serious with his car." The girl stepped before me, her eyes wandered over my body but avoided my face. I was afraid that in another moment she would look behind me and it could all be over. There were a lot of things this girl lacked, but perception and a quick mind weren't among them. I would be shit out of luck here if I didn't think fast myself.

"You know." I grabbed her by the arms and spun us around. She looked at me, stunned, and then smiled, raising her face to mine. She was too close, but there was nothing I could do about it.

"Yes?" she asked, licked her lips, and her eyes fluttered closed as she waited for my next obvious move.

_Goddammit!_

"You know," I repeated, taking her hand and bringing it to my mouth. She opened her eyes, watching me brushing tight-lipped over her knuckles. "I could use a glass of water before I go." My voice cracked and my fingers shook a little, but the excitement in her eyes told me she took it as nervousness, and it was in my best interest not to dissuade her.

I smiled, hopefully warmly, squeezed her fingers and let them go.

"Uh, sure," she sighed, reluctantly walking away.

_Just fucking leave already._

She opened the door and slid into the hallway. The thumb drive was in my pocket as soon as she shut the door. I sunk on the bed, but then jumped right up and smoothed the quilt out. I wasn't going to be near that trap, although the next time it was going to be tricky to get access to her laptop to collect that keystroke log. How many times could I count on bathroom breaks to finish the job? I had another, much safer idea of planting a wireless access point somewhere here at the apartment; we'd done it before in a lot more dangerous spots, like a police station, and it worked out fine. But this time assface Jasper pulled a veto on it. All of a sudden he was worried about being caught by the pink girl, as if sweeping for a rouge wifi device was a part of her dusting chore. It was a ridiculous concern, but vetoes were something we never contested. I didn't, because I knew that when my time came he would have no choice but to accept mine.

I gulped the glass full of water brought to me, created some noise in the hallway on purpose, making the pink girl shush at me and wave me out the door so fast, I did a fistpump once I was out, because all in all it was a productive evening. Nearly disastrous, but it didn't end badly. What else could I ask for? I had been walking the thin line for long enough to be used to it.

xxx

I was pushing Bella against the door of her truck and kissing her with the kind of desperation I always felt when seeing her after a couple of days of separation.

"Edward," she moaned, snaking her hand into my hair, just the way I liked it.

"I hate when someone touches my hair," I mumbled into her neck and pressed myself against her harder, almost crushing her in my arms.

"I hate when someone hugs me," she answered breathlessly, rubbing her leg over mine.

I craved more friction, more twisting of hands, more of her tongue in my mouth. She was always so willing, open. It made me feel guilty every time. What was I doing to this girl?

"Open your eyes, Edward, look at me," she murmured, kissing my chin.

She did it again. Whenever I had a black thought threatening to consume me, she was there with her soothing words, candy tongue and countless freckles. She once told me that I couldn't leave her until I kissed every single one. And then she added that she had more of them appearing every summer.

"You are stuck with me for a while," she joked, pressing her nose to my lips.

She was right, there was no _forever_ for us, but I was grateful for every given day.

"I have to go," she groaned, pulling me for another kiss. "Alice is waiting."

I cupped her cheeks, still pinning her to the door. It was true, her face was generously dotted with tiny freckles: around her eyes, on the bridge of her nose, on her forehead, even on her lips.

"Sun loves you," I murmured, tasting the skin under her eyes.

"I miss the sun," she sighed, glancing up at the gray skies.

"I'll miss _you_," I promised, trailing my tongue down the slope of her neck. I pushed the frill of the dress off her shoulder. More freckles, all mine_. I am going to fucking combust._

"Fuck, baby,"I complained, latching on her delicious skin again.

"Edward, please." Her hips bucked against my thigh.

What was she asking? If she wanted to go, the signals were definitely mixed.

"Fuck, I know. I know," I agreed, although I felt nothing of that sort.

"I'll come pick you up at seven. You still wanna go to the writers event?" I asked her, thumbing her wet bottom lip. She kissed it. I licked it, and then leaned to kiss her again. We both groaned.

"Yes, at seven."

xxx

Ten before seven, I walked into the store to gather Bella and immediately stumbled on my step.

"Jasper, what are you doing here?"

"My girlfriend owns this place, remember?" he laughed, relaxed and leaning on the counter with his legs crossed. "We're going on a date today. What about you?"

"What _about _me?"

"What are _you _doing here, lover boy?"

"My sister owns this place, remember?" I quipped, any other good explanation escaped me.

I darted a quick glance at Alice, looking for a hint about Bella's whereabouts. What would be the odds of her stepping out for a coffee, or getting something from the truck or whatever?

Alice frowned slightly and shook her head infinitesimally, which didn't help to answer my question. Was Bella in the stockroom? If so, had Jasper already seen her? Talked to her?

My best bet was to leave. If I walked out of here right now, Jasper wouldn't be in my face, badgering me, and I wouldn't be tempted to pick up a fight with him yet again. It would be better for Bella, too, because if Jasper decided to pick on _her, _I doubted I could stay civil with him.

Hence my dilemma: if I walked away, I wouldn't know if Bella was safe here, and Jasper would have free reign to do and say to her whatever he wanted. How could I make sure it didn't happen if I didn't stay? So, antsy and torn, I did.

"I can help with whatever my girlfriend needs today, right, Al?" He winked at Alice.

She glared at him and huffed but didn't say anything.

"So, really, Edward, what brought you here this evening?" Jasper addressed me again.

I was going to offer some excuse that would allow me to check the back of the store, and, if Bella was there, find a way to walk her out without Jasper harassing us. I wasn't sure how to do that just yet; she might not even be there. While I was contemplating and stalling, out of the back of the store with a box in her arms, walked Bella. She smiled huge as soon as she saw me, and I couldn't help my involuntary reaction to danger–like an ass, I scowled at her in response. _Stay away._

She didn't need to know how fucked up the three of us here were. She might have had a hunch based on my immediate closed off reaction at the very mention of Jasper, who she only knew as Alice's boyfriend. Alice wasn't supposed to talk about him; if she did, Bella never lead on, and I never asked.

My overt reaction to Bella's appearance was such a mistake. It was like dangling a delicious snack in front of Jasper's nose. He sensed the tension in the air instantly. I saw him quickly noting Alice's shifty eyes, Bella's lost smile, and of course there was me: scowling and glaring. A wide grin spread on Jasper's face and he wiggled his brows at me.

"Alice, where do you want the hangers?" Bella asked, pointing to the box. She wasn't smiling anymore when she darted her eyes at Jasper and then fixed them back on Alice. She avoided looking at me all together.

"Oh, just put them on the shelf." Alice waved Bella off. She seemed pissed, not at Bella of course. At me, and Jasper too. In her eyes, we had no reason not to get along; our pissing contests were wearing her out.

Bella nodded and turned to leave. I felt myself relax a little thinking that the storm had blown over.

"Hey hey there!" Jasper drawled.

_Fuck._

It hurt physically to watch her standing there across the room by herself as she stopped at Jasper's call, adjusted the box in her arms and slowly turned back to us.

I knew my Bella, she was taking her time to compose herself. When she looked back to us, she was calm with a small, pleasant smile on her face. "Yes?"

"You look familiar. Did you start here recently?"

Bella bit her lip and nodded her head.

"Well then, c'mere, darlin'. Let's get a proper introduction, you should also meet my boy here." Jasper patted my shoulder.

"Actually, we've met," she said quietly and grazed her eyes over me, narrowing them for a moment. I kept a straight, guarded face and watched how her own expression turned aloof.

"Really?" Jasper asked, acting ignorant. Fucker remembered, no doubt; he was just playing some angle again. "When?"

"Don't be a dick, Jasper," I muttered. "You know when."

"Funny that _you _didn't forget, E," he noted.

I shrugged.

"At the book store," Bella said, looking down.

"That's right! The book store!" Jasper hit himself in the forehead with an open palm. "I remember now. You are the tornado-girl who likes to write."

I eyed him angrily. He should have let _me _do that, hit him in the head, I mean. My fist would shake things up for him a lot better in his twisted fucking head.

"Well, isn't that rad?" He looked a lot more enthusiastic than was warranted: another bad sign. "What's your name again?"

I could bet my freedom that Jasper remembered her name.

"I'm Bella."

"That's right, Bella! Al, how come you never mentioned your new employee to me?" He turned to Alice, clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

"Didn't come up; you've been too busy lately." Her tone was defensive, snippy. My sister was mad at me, but at least she kept her word about protecting Bella. It seemed she was also upset with Jasper about something, and I wasn't sure whether I should have been happy or worried about that fact.

"I'm sorry, baby." Jasper leaned over the counter, searching her face, and stroked her hand. "You know how it goes for me sometimes. But we have a special date tonight, remember?" He pulled himself up and kissed her on the lips, and Alice instantly melted.

"We do, Jaz, I'm so happy. I can't wait."

I groaned. How could she be so easy on him all the time?

"Hey, brother, speaking of happy." Jasper turned back to me. "How's your love life progressing? Didn't you go on a date yesterday? Did you get laid already?"

"Jasper!" Alice gasped.

I gaped at him and gripped tightly to the counter, its sharp edge was cutting into my palm and somewhat grounding me. It was thanks to that pain and my sheer will that I didn't launch at Jasper to shut him up. Yes, I did go on a date the day before and it wasn't with Bella, and now I was afraid to look at her and see the reaction to his words.

"What? I'm worried about Eddie here. Brother needs some action. Right, Eddie?" He winked at me.

"Stop being so rude!" she protested.

Jasper, the constant instigator and my blackest curse, was trying to embarrass me in front of Bella–a girl he barely knew, who he thought _I _barely knew too–for pure entertainment, just to spite me. He was smiling in my face, acting carefree, showing no concern about upsetting Alice or exposing the information about our next job. The familiar white heat of hate for him flamed in my chest and burned in my throat. In moments like this I not only wanted to have this bastard beaten into pulp with my own hands, I wanted him dead.

"Last time I checked," I answered coolly, as coolly as I could while shaking with rage. "I didn't need a match-maker."

"It looks like you need all the help you can get, brother. Oh, I've got an idea! How about a double date? Bring your smarty-pants girl with you, we'd love to meet her."

_No, he didn't..._

"What makes you think I have such a girl?"

I snapped my teeth audibly, but it was too late, the words were already out of my mouth. This time I did look at Bella. She was regarding me with an unreadable expression. Did I just fucking blow it for real? I racked my hand through my hair, trying not to give into a panic. _I have to fix it. Find a way to explain._ _She has to let me._

"You got me there, my friend, you did," Jasper laughed, flicking his eyes between me and Bella. He appeared so fucking satisfied with himself, it almost felt like he orchestrated this whole conversation and it ended just the way he meant it.

"Alice, do you still need me? May I go now?" Bella asked in a smooth, polite voice. She acted like the perfect little employee, who knew her place. I couldn't stand the mere thought of it–it was so preposterous–but I was powerless to say anything at this moment.

"No, Bella, we are good. See you Tuesday." Alice darted a look of pure hatred in my direction.

I hung my head; of course, Alice was right, Bella deserved a lot better than an asshole like me.

"Oh, Bella, wait!" Alice opened the drawer of the counter retrieving a white envelope. "Here's your paycheck, honey."

"Alice, no." Bella was swift with her usual protests. "Internship, remember? Good on my resume. That's all I need."

_Oh, please, Alice, don't fucking argue with her. Not now._

"We'll talk about it later," Alice answered acquiescently.

Bella nodded and disappeared into the stockroom. I felt like tearing after her, and I probably would have if Alice didn't stop me. "Edward, Jaz and I are going to be late for our dinner reservation, could you please wait until Bella is done here and close the store for me tonight?"

If I ever was grateful for my little sister, at that moment the feeling had no bounds.

"Sure," I replied, frowning as if I was doing her a big favor, even though what I really wanted to say was, "_thank you_."

"Psst, psst, Edward." Jasper leaned to me, speaking in a low, conspiratorial voice. "You should go make a new friend there." He jerked his head a few times, twitching his mouth to the side in the direction of the stockroom.

"Fuck, Jasper-" I started to protest.

"No, seriously, if I remember correctly, the girl has some solid connections in just the right places."

"You make me fucking sick," I replied, grimacing, while my heart clenched since I knew exactly what he meant.

I wished I could make Bella quit working here, but even if I begged, Bella would never agree until she paid Alice in full for the ruined prom dress, and she was still hell-bent on paying _me _back for that ridiculous suit I bought for her one rainy day. She wouldn't quit this job, but I was going to insist that she stay away from Jasper and never trust a word he said.

The lines were getting blurry. My unspoken agreement with Bella that it would be just me and her, that nothing else mattered, was about to break, making everything infinitely more complicated.

"You'll get over it," Jasper promised smirking. "Soon."

I wanted to ask what the fuck he meant, but Alice was already standing at the exit, calling for Jasper to hurry.

* * *

**A/N: We jumped from the beginning of June right into July. Guess which significant date was missed on purpose? Feel free to speculate why.**

**There is a reference to "Kill Bill Vol. 1" movie in this chapter and I personally think that GoGo Yubari is kick-ass. See if you disagree: http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=ZUURwgk_hJg . Beware, it's rated R.**

**Do let me know what you think about this chapter, please, it's absolutely crushing when my mailbox is quiet. ****And as always thank you for reading.**


	28. Chapter 26 Reveling

**A/N: I write every day, just not all of it can be used in the story. Thank you for coming back and reading it still. **

**We are at the point in the story when I touch an important, yet very sensitive topic. I am doing my absolutely best to be aware of it and show it respectfully. **

**My beta Saluki168, thank you for holding my hand. Pre-readers Rodeomom_95 and philadelphic your support is priceless. MichelleMMarie, thank you for previewing; and Twitchling, you know what you mean to me. Love you.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal. The question is still why.**

* * *

**Chapter 26**

**Reveling**

_**BPOV**_

Every now and then Charlie talked to me about the law and its different shades. For the most part he made it simple: break the rules and you were in trouble, follow the law, and you were the winner. He preached the letter of the law, and you'd think that as a cop the color spectrum of his outlook at life would be limited to just that: right and wrong, black and white, no shades allowed. And yet, my father liked to surprise me on occasion, showing his respect for the many shades of grey in between. Because, as he liked to put it, the spirit of the law deserved some color too.

"I wouldn't send someone to jail for jaywalking, Bells," he joked. "However, I would haul your ass to chill there for a while if I busted you for underage drinking."

My father was subtle with his clues, as ever.

"I'll make a note of that." I laughed.

"You do that, kid," he suggested, unsuccessfully hiding a smile.

"You know, Dad, if you sent every drunken teenager to jail, there'd be no space left for real criminals."

"You're right, and I'd have no adult friends left in Clallam County, either." He smiled, openly this time; his bushy brows turned up to show his soft brown eyes, their color matching mine. "Everyone is so damn sensitive about their precious kids nowadays, even though most of them deserve a good spanking and removal of all privileges until they show signs of growing up. But I do like to make a case once in a while. And remember, Swans get no second chances. We live by example."

So, no gray shades of the law for Swans. Duly noted.

xxx

The darn box just wouldn't fit in on the shelf. I pushed, shoved, and even punched it a few times because damn it, out of the two of us, who was supposed to be stronger?

Charlie liked to say, "If it doesn't fit, be smart and try another way to make it work because some things are not meant to be fit no matter how much you force it. All it would do is break."

Be smart, huh? I shoved the box again, feeling the burn running down the strained muscle on my back. It was going to hurt tomorrow for sure. I scoffed at myself, _"Tomorrow"_.

_It hurts now, okay?_ My heart–my pride.

No, I wasn't smart and I couldn't even make simple things work the right way.

Why wouldn't it fit, dammit?

With my arms still holding up the stubborn box full of expensive wooden hangers (because Alice wouldn't settle for any other kind), I pressed my forehead against the shelf. My arms were getting tired and with the pulled muscle I couldn't bring the heavy box down without dropping it and making a lot of noise. I didn't want to make any noise; I wanted to disappear instead. Quietly.

The cautious, slow steps stopped right behind me. I shuffled on my feet, making another attempt to push the box onto the shelf and groaned in defeat. His chest pressed against my back, and a moment later the box was fitted in its place easily, effortlessly. _Of course._

I started curling and uncurling my fingers and bending my arms, trying to bring some blood-flow back to my limbs to get rid of the numbness.

"Bella." His breath warmed the back of my head.

I huffed, unwilling to turn and face him yet. I should have been used to the hot and cold with Edward, but apparently I was a glutton for punishment since I kept coming back for more. Even after seeing and hearing him openly denying having any sort of relationship with me in front of his sister and her boyfriend, I was still here. Why? I sighed.

Slowly, as if he was expecting me to lash out at him, Edward wrapped his arm around my chest from behind, bringing me closer to him.

"I'm sorry for what you heard, for every word said out there." He sighed. "You shouldn't have been subjected to that."

I couldn't face him and I couldn't push him away either. Instead, I slouched against him, accepting his warmth, his embrace, and his intensity.

"Say something, Bella. It's killing me," he begged when I didn't respond for a while.

Affected by the anxiety in his voice, I brought my hand up and hugged his arm. He kissed the top of my head, once, twice. I stood motionless, still confused by what I witnessed earlier and how crestfallen Edward seemed now. He released me from his hold and gently nudged my shoulder to turn around. When I did, I found him standing awkwardly with his arms by his sides and slumped shoulders. His hair was ruffled into a mess. "Whatever you heard didn't mean anything. I was only trying to protect you," he said gruffly.

Even if he was, I didn't feel protected at that time. Vulnerable–yes, rejected–yes, but not protected.

I saw his hand twitch; he wanted to touch me again but stopped himself, probably because of the defiant expression on my face. "I hate that bastard," he exhaled loudly. "He ruins everything."

In all fairness, the little hints I had gotten from Edward should've been enough for me to know that he wasn't exactly fond of Alice's boyfriend. He never made it a secret. I just chose to ignore the clues because it was easier to live in the make-believe reality Edward and I had existed in for the past few weeks. But Jasper was definitely real, and he knew something Edward didn't want me to find out. Something that made me feel plain, average, and small. Something I forgot for a short while. Of course, it was always right below the surface and took only a few words from a self-assured man to remind me how little chance I had to be Edward's one and only.

"Do you know the story about the Sword of Damocles?" he asked suddenly.

I shook my head, not surprised; it wasn't as if Edward hadn't tried to derail our conversations at mid-point before.

He smiled sadly. "Finally something I can impress you with. According to the Greek legend, Damocles was a jealous courtier who envied his king Dionysius' fortune and lavish life. As a result, Dionysius offered Damocles to try it out, but with that offer he also ordered his servants to hang a sharp sword above the throne. The sword was suspended from the ceiling by a horse hair and hovered directly over Damocles head, constantly threatening his life. Naturally, he couldn't enjoy the power and the wealth granted to him while in perpetual fear for his life, and soon he begged his king to allow him to step down."

I looked at Edward, frowning. "Are you telling me you're Damocles?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I... Yeah. Pretty much."

I sighed and reached for his arm. "Edward, if it's me you're constantly worried about, please don't. I'll be fine. And Jasper can say whatever he wants."

I wanted to sound convincing, but by the way Edward winced at my words and flinched away from my touch, I knew there was no point in trying.

"Whatever he wants?" He bristled. "He is a manipulative asshole. He can twist the truth to the point you don't know where it ends and the lie begins. He's mastered the art to a fucking perfection."

"I could tell. I saw it," I replied, remembering Jasper's smirk while he was leaning against the table in an exaggerated relaxing pose and joking at Edward's expense.

"What did you see?" Edward scowled at me, just like he did when he saw me walking into him talking to Jasper and Alice.

"He was hurting you and enjoying it."

"Well, that's what he does."

"I hate him for that," I said with conviction.

"If he hurts _you_ I'll kill him," he spat, making me flinch.

"Edward," I admonished him, shaking my head. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"Look, you have to promise me something," he said, making a step towards me and placing his hand against the shelf behind me.

I tensed. "What is it?"

"Promise first."

"No. First tell me what it is you want my word on."

"Always so stubborn," he murmured, leaning closer. "Doesn't know what's good for her. Never gives in.

"This is not a joke, Bella," he argued, yet his mouth twitched into my favorite lopsided smile. He softly pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "But yes, my lollipop girl, I like it." His hand covered my cheek.

"Why do you call me that?" I asked, covering his hand with mine as he pressed it to the side of my face.

"You smell and taste like candy. Strawberry."

"My favorite." I grinned.

"Yes, I know. Please, Bella, listen to me this one time." His other hand moved to cradle my cheek, demanding my full attention. As if he ever didn't have it. "I need you to promise me that you'll stay away from Jasper. You can't trust him. Now that he's seen you, now that he's seen the way I act when I'm around you, he'll be looking for ways to get to you, too."

He kept his hands on my face, holding me firmly, making sure I didn't look away. "He will try to manipulate you. That's what he does best: he finds weakness and pushes until you break. Stay away from him."

"Okay." I couldn't help but wonder what Edward's weakness was.

"I have more than one," he said, somehow knowing exactly what I was thinking. " That's why it's so easy for him to get to me."

He paused for a moment and then leaned to kiss me, first on my lips, softly, and then just above my eyebrow. "You are one of them," he murmured against my skin. "Surely, you know that. And I swear to God, I will not let him damage you like he did with us."

This was one of those times when I knew that I couldn't use the 'I'm a big girl, I can handle it' argument with Edward. He obviously knew Jasper well and should have been accustomed to the dynamic of their relationship, yet the ease with which Jasper manipulated him earlier into a raging, shaking mess spoke volumes about his manipulative abilities. It was painful to watch. Thinking back, it was strange that Alice, being in the middle of their exchange, didn't have a stronger reaction. She hardly interfered.

"What about Alice?" I asked. "They've been together for a while now, right?"

"What has she told you about Jasper?'

I thought about it. Surprisingly, so far she hadn't shared much. I knew she had a boyfriend, and on occasion she'd mentioned little things about him. I heard her talking with him on the phone a few times, but she'd always left the room when I was too close.

"I knew Alice had a boyfriend, but I didn't know it was him. Jasper, I mean. It seems like she's been a little frustrated with him lately. Something about him being absent-minded and secretive, but by the way she talks about him I always assumed that she loved him very much."

Edward let me go, slanting a look at me. "He doesn't deserve her."

"She must see something in him. There's got to be some good in a guy for Alice to give him her heart, don't you think?"

"Not at all. It's happened to her before, Bella. And it was... She was in agony." He rubbed his neck, grimacing at his own words. "And I was a shitty brother who didn't pay attention."

He looked like he was in pain, and I had no idea how to help him. All I could do was listen.

He sighed, but it seemed that was all he was willing to tell me about Alice's past.

"I just wish she could see him clearly. I don't know how to convince her."

"Do you think he cares about her at all?"

"Are you asking me if he is _capable_ of caring about anything or anyone? The jury is still out."

"Alice is smart, give her a little credit, Edward."

The picture he was painting of her wasn't exactly fair to my friend. The Alice I had gotten to know over the past month was sharp, witty, and a great business woman. Could he blame me for being skeptical?

"That's all I've been doing. But it's getting more and more difficult for me to deal with him." He leaned on the shelf, supporting himself by one bent arm, his fingers formed a fist.

"Look. He might not show up here again for a long time," I suggested quickly. "Today was the first time I've seen him since... since that time at the bookstore. So, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

I was itching to ask him why I had to worry about him at all. He was a jerk, that was obvious, but besides that, what was so dangerous about Jasper that I had to be afraid of him?

"Trust me," Edward responded firmly, "he'll be around. And he'll be fucking with us. Just like he did today."

That was not a prospect I was looking forward to, but I nodded, showing that I took the warning seriously.

"You can ask me, Bella," Edward said after a pause, his eyes flashing to mine.

With unease instantly settling in my stomach, I looked away, somehow knowing what it was that Edward wanted to address. I, on another hand, wasn't sure I was that interested. I suddenly wished I could find a place to hide and just... not deal with it.

I shook my head. "No. It doesn't matter."

"It matters. Ask me."

I shook my head again. I didn't want to hear it.

"Remember, I warned you before?"

"I remember."

"You thought you could handle it, handle what I am. Well, here it is."

"I don't want to know." I ducked my head, avoiding his eyes. My heart pounded in my chest.

"I did see a girl yesterday."

I swayed on my feet. So, Jasper _didn't_ lie.

That hurt so much I spaced out.

"Bella, did you hear me?"

I did, and it hurt too damn much.

"I... Yes. I heard you." I heard him, although I wish I hadn't because I didn't think I would handle it well. I made my feet move to the furthest corner of the room, to another shelf laden with boxes and started stabbing one, trying to open it. I had no idea what the hell I was looking for.

Of course, Edward followed me. "And? Goddammit, Bella! Look at me!"

He was getting frustrated with me. Did he have any idea how frustrating it was for _me_? I turned to face him, narrowing my eyes. "Okay. I heard. I looked. You warned me. And you've been honest. Are we done?" I lifted the beat up box from the shelf and then dropped it down with a loud sound. Better that he hear the contents of the box breaking than me.

"See, right there," he said quietly as I started to walk away again. "He already got to you."

I spun around. "Oh no, this isn't about Jasper. He won't be the one getting between us, only you have that power."

Edward grabbed my hand, not letting me take another step away. "Power? You don't know what you're talking about. I was_ just_ trying to tell you how little of my life I can control."

"Right, as if some Greek legend can justify your fear of... What are you afraid of exactly? If you want to date other people, you can just damn well tell me that much and move on." I jerked my arm, trying to break free, but he didn't let me. "You don't need to use some allegorical crap to tell me the truth."

"There are no other people," he said firmly, wrapping his fingers around my wrist tighter.

"You just said there is another girl."

"If you would let me finish, please. There is a girl I have to see on occasion." He paused with a deep sigh and then pulled my hand to come closer. I unwillingly made a step towards him. "My interactions with her mean nothing, never will. She's just a business connection I have to work with and nothing more."

"If it's just a business connection, why are you telling me? You always steer me clear from your business." I finally snatched my hand away.

"Because I'd rather you hear it from me than from that jerk who will twist everything around. I'll be the first to admit that he gets under my skin too often, and I don't always handle it well. I'm afraid he'll do the same to you. How can I not be? You barely spoke with him today and look, you're already flipping out."

I snorted. "Me? You should've seen yourself over there. I thought you were going to rip his head off."

"Not going to lie, the thought did cross my mind," he said darkly. I searched his face for signs that he wasn't serious.

He sighed, and the severe look in his eyes softened. "Look, from where I see it, Jasper will be around and will keep instigating and manipulating. But I'm going to be finished with that business of ours soon." He chewed on the inside of his cheek, nodding at some inner thought, and then smiled at me; it was unexpectedly bright. "It will be over soon."

"Do you like her?" I asked because it still bugged me, the existence of some other girl.

"Who?"

"Your _business connection_?" I made air quotes. "Do you like her?"

His face darkened again. "Not in the slightest. It's not about her."

"Oh, I know, it's about me," I responded bitterly.

"God," he groaned, "what would it take for you to believe me?"

I shrugged without answering. It wasn't about trusting him. I wasn't eager to voice my insecurities because neither of us needed a reminder that Edward was older, and safe to assume, a lot more experienced. Whether I wanted it or not, there was some competition out there, and, let's face it, I wasn't holding up that well against it.

"Have I ever given you a reason to think I'm interested in someone else?" Edward asked, exasperated.

"I don't know, Edward." I tried to keep my tone nonchalant. "You're you, you do what you want. Come and go. Call one evening, disappear next. Besides, you refuse to..." I swallowed loudly. "You don't touch me..._that _way."

It had been weeks since we started... I guess it could be called dating. What else would you call a relationship in which you spend several days a week in each other's company? A relationship that included such intense make out sessions that I was dizzy for hours later, left burning and aching.

There was a lot of touching. Edward had the most amazing hands and the softest lips and skin, but he'd always stop right when I felt I was ready for more. His restraint amazed me. On some evenings we'd gone as far as me unbuttoning his shirt and kissing every inch of exposed skin. He allowed that while shaking, whispering sweet words to me, sinking his fingers into my hair, but never beyond, never taking his shirt completely off. And he never touched _my_ buttons. Oh, I so tried to be clever. Dresses with spaghetti straps when it wasn't raining, thin cardigans with easy to undo buttons when it was, and skirts. I started to appreciate the short, flirty skirts regardless of how uncomfortable I was in them at the beginning. I was showing off a lot of skin. The look on Edward's face when I straddled his bike for the first time while wearing one was priceless. I don't think he removed his hand from my knee all night, and I loved it.

Yes, we touched, but having his hands on my knees and my shoulders or over my clothes wasn't enough. My fantasies were far beyond that, and I wanted Edward to show me that he wanted me the same way. Today_._ It was important to me that he showed he wanted me _today_.

"Which way is that, Bella?" he asked, stepping right before me and trapping me against the wall. His voice was deep, and soft, seeping through every pore of my skin. _Which way?_ As if he didn't know. I ached for him to finally lay his hands on me in such way that would make me come undone.

"The way _I_ want _you_," I whispered. Oh god, what was I doing? The rejection was going to sting so much.

I felt not only my cheeks flush, but also my neck and my chest. The wall behind me was cold, but I wasn't getting any relief from that. It was the exact spot where Edward kissed me the first time. His eyes brightened, a slow smile spread across his face. He remembered that too.

Moving closer, he hovered over me; I tensed in anticipation.

"Tell me, Bella," he demanded, bringing has hand up to my neck, tangling his fingers in my hair.

I licked my lips, happy he was into it as much as I was. "Do we have to talk?"

He paused, watching my mouth as I sucked on a corner of it. "No," he rasped.

He nudged my knees apart and I responded immediately, letting his leg slide in between. I felt his fingers drag over the hem of my dress, pushing it up a little. He raised his eyebrow at me in question.

He had touched me this way many times before, so he really didn't have to ask, but this time I could feel that it was going to be different. There was going to be more. I wanted _everything_.

His fingers grazed over the skin of my thigh, inducing a goose bump trail as they kept moving up to my hip. They halted at the string of my bikini. A tiny string bikini that I had thoughtfully paired up with the short, spaghetti-strap summer dress I had on. _Go me!_

Edward gasped, fingering the string. "What's this?" he demanded.

"A string bikini," I informed him in a somewhat shaky voice. "Is something wrong?" If my naiveté could ever be used to my advantage, I felt now was an excellent time to play it up. He groaned, digging his fingers into my hip.

"I know it's a string bikini, Bella." He ignored my question. "I want to know why you're wearing it. You're practically naked here."

"Hardly. It's not like I'm wearing a thong."

That was the first time ever I actually said a word "thong" out loud, but Edward didn't need to know that.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he moaned. His hand on my hip pulled me closer to him. I wasn't going to resist.

"You don't look like you're dying," I mumbled, feeling his fingers slide under the string, his thumb pressing over my hip bone. At this rate I could be the one leaving this Earth prematurely. I needed to remember to breathe. At least once in a while.

Raising myself on my toes I pulled him to me and kissed the side of his neck while inhaling his scent– musky and sweet–intoxicating.

"Bella." He groaned, craning to give me better access. Encouraged, I began placing an open-mouth kisses on his throat.

He squeezed the back of my neck, pressing my face to him. My hands roamed over his back, and without thinking I pushed them under his shirt, hungry for more of his bare skin.

He gasped loudly when my fingers ran over his shoulder blades, scratching him lightly. He leaned back to look at me. "I want to touch you," he whispered, his eyes flickering between mine, wild. I nodded, anxious, and so wound up.

"Yeah?" His hand released the tight grip on my hip and traveled lower, brushing slowly over the panties between my legs.

"Oh." I jerked at the unexpected blinding sensation of his touch.

"This is too good," he grunted, "too much." And before I could disagree, his fingers were gone, leaving me incredibly disappointed.

I couldn't have that; pulling one hand from under his shirt, I grabbed his, brought it to my mouth, and kissed his palm, tasting the salt of his sweat and the bitter remnant of cigarettes on the inner side of his fingers. There was nothing more inviting or sexier to me.

"Jesus," he breathed. "What are you doing to me?"

I smiled, enjoying the expression of pure lust on his face. With unexpected vehemence, he pressed me flat against the wall. I could feel him; I could feel all of him. His mouth crushed against mine, demanding, feverish, unstoppable. I took his tongue in, sucking and biting. I couldn't stop either. Dragging my nails over his shoulder blades, I snaked my hand under his arm and hugged him, pulling him even closer to me, pressing myself into him. It wasn't enough. I felt as if the only way for me to be close enough was if I were under his skin.

"Say no, Bella," Edward panted, grinding against my stomach. "God, please, say stop."

"Why?" I sucked on his Adam apple, feeling the sounds of his low voice reverberate in his throat. I loved it.

"Because I can't."

"I don't want you to stop."

"Tell me what you want," he panted when I pressed myself to him harder, rubbing against him.

"Everything."

"It's yours already." He reached for my knee and pulled my leg up to his hip.

"You don't mean it." I wanted him closer, harder against me, lost in me. I felt gone and lost already.

"I never lie to you. The way I want you, it drives me absolutely insane." He pushed me almost painfully against the wall. "How can you not feel it?"

"I'm the inexperienced one, remember?" I mumbled, rocking my hips in time with his movements.

"So not a good time to bring this up right now," he objected into my neck. His teeth grazed over my exposed shoulder.

"Accept it." I shuddered when he bit lightly on the skin at the slope of my neck.

It was starting to feel so good; his kisses and the pressure between my legs while I kept grinding against him in circles, feeling the ache inside me building, building.

Edward suddenly bent down, grabbed me by my thighs and lifted me up. "Do you want me like this?" he asked, helping to wrap my legs around his hips.

"Yes, and more." I pushed, feeling him hard right where I needed him, helping my ache.

"Not yet, but yes, I'm dying to have everything with you."

He kissed me hard, his tongue entering my mouth, making me groan. We kissed for what seemed like forever; I held my hands on his shoulders, squeezing, enjoying the contractions of the firm muscles under my palms. Edward's mouth was merciless, hungry, and so were his fingers on my bottom.

"Everything?" I asked when we finally came up for air. "Tell me."

"My girl likes dirty talk?" he chuckled softly. Tracing his tongue up to the end of my jaw line he kissed and sucked on the skin behind my ear. And as if there was a wire running down my body, the desire shot straight through me.

"Edward," I gasped loudly. "More."

"Soon, Bella." He began pushing against me faster, rhythmically rubbing me in just the right way and right where I needed it the most. "I'll ask you to trust me not only with your mind, but also with your body."

"I trust you," I panted, barely coherent, the feeling inside me was growing, building, and I prayed that Edward didn't stop. "Don't stop. Please don't stop," I begged, clinging to him, pushing, moving my hips to meet his.

"I won't, I can't," he breathed next to my ear. "I need you to give this to me. My Bella, my beautiful girl."

We kissed again. Edward's mouth had never been this demanding, and I couldn't get enough of his taste. I could feel the wall behind me with my entire body. My shoulders would probably be bruised tomorrow from being roughly pushed against the hard surface for so long. I didn't care.

"Oh my God," I moaned. I knew it wasn't going to be long. "Edward, yes."

"Like this?" The friction between us was bringing me higher. I was gasping for air, my heart beat so fast, somewhere in my throat, that I thought I would choke on it.

_Yes, like this. Please_.

I couldn't talk, only moan, and when the bright feeling inside me coiled impossibly tight and then burst into a million pieces, I cried out and bit on Edward's neck, hard.

"Bella!" He let out a long, loud grunt, pushing into me several times more, shaking against me.

It finally felt like we were close enough for me to breathe; we had something we both wanted and it tied us together, made us one. The feeling was so overwhelming I had to press my face against Edward's shoulder and wrap my arms around him so tight, he chuckled.

"I'm right here, baby, right here," he murmured as if he knew how I felt. He pressed his lips to my temple.

"I'm sorry." I bent to kiss the spot on his neck where I just bit him. Edward was always so careful with me, and there I was losing it like that. There would probably be a mark tomorrow.

"Don't ever be sorry for feeling free and enjoying yourself," he told me, carefully lowering me down.

He didn't let me go until he made sure I could stand on my own shaky legs. After that, he cupped my face and kissed me again. "Thank you."

"For what, Edward?" I asked, perplexed.

"For giving me something I've been dreaming about for a long time. For letting me see you and feel you this way. For being mine."

"Are _you_?" I asked, bringing my hand up to the side of his neck again, brushing over the spot where I marked him. _Are you mine?_

"I am, Bella, with everything I have I am," he answered, taking my hand in his and kissing it with ardor.

xxx

"He had a birthday three weeks ago and didn't tell me?" I wailed at Alice. She jumped at the sound of my voice being an octave higher than usual, spilling tea on herself.

"Gee, Bella, chill out. It's not the end of the world," she chided me, brushing the liquid from her now wet dress and reaching for a napkin.

"Sorry, sorry!" I exclaimed, handing her a few more.

It was another day of me helping Alice at the store and probably the slowest afternoon I had seen here since starting last month.

"So he didn't announce it. It's not that big of a deal."

"Easy for you to say," I protested. "How old did he turn? Twenty six?"

"Twenty five, actually. Why?"

"When we met two months ago he said he already was twenty five."

"So?" She got up to throw the wet wad of napkins away. "What difference does it make?"

"He did it in purpose," I mumbled. "He wanted to push me away."

"It didn't look like it last time I saw you two together," she laughed. "Damn, girl, my brother has never been so into someone. You make him look like a puddle of goo when he's around you."

"Really?" Momentarily melting, I smiled. "Um, have you ever met his..." I paused, not sure how to call his previous dating partners.

"Not once," she assured me.

I sighed. "That's good, right?" I asked.

"You betcha." Alice grinned. "You shouldn't worry about his age."

"Except that him being older doesn't give us a lot of advantage right now, you know?"

"It depends how you look at it." She winked.

I blushed, looking down at my tea. I still didn't like that I missed his birthday. My mind immediately wondered, trying to come up with ideas for a perfect present. I'd have to think about that some more and possibly ask Alice for advice. But first I'd have to talk to Edward. About the age part he exaggerated, of course, not about the present. The present would have to be a surprise. Ugh, why did everything have to be so confusing?

"You're overanalyzing it, Bella." Alice touched my elbow. "Women want to be younger, men care about it a lot less."

"Except in our case it's reversed."

"Not for long, Bella," she laughed. "I'm twenty three and I already envy your youth."

"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

"But it's true."

"What, you miss illegal drinking?" I asked, chuckling.

"I never cared for drinking." She shrugged.

"Not even in college?"

Her face fell slightly; she glanced at me with a strange, wistful expression on her face. "Drinking doesn't agree with me. Even when I'm off my meds."

I stopped laughing immediately. "Meds?"

"We'll talk about it some other time." She started flipping through the old magazine on the table.

"Alice, are you okay?" I waited for her to look at me, but she wouldn't. "Hey," I called out softly.

She closed the magazine and sighed. Her unfocused dark, round eyes seemed larger from sadness shadowing over her features. "Yeah, no worries. I don't like talking about it."

"Do you talk to anyone else?" I asked carefully, knowing that I walked a fine line between being considerate and nosy. But she was my friend, the only close female friend I had, and I felt it was my duty to make sure she was all right.

"Not lately. Are you planning to go to college?"

"I'm starting to think about it, but nothing concrete yet." I answered, the decision time seemed too far away. I wasn't there yet, but I knew I'd have to start looking into the choices soon.

"Picking the right place and getting in is nerve-racking, but fun. You know, I was the odd one out in college," Alice said thoughtfully. "I avoided the booze and parties, but I never felt like I was missing out. I was in _lo-o-ove_," she accentuated the last word, clearly making fun of herself. I smiled.

"So, I spent my entire time there trying to please my boyfriend," she continued with a tinge of nostalgia mixed with regret in her voice, "while he was busy taking care of himself. James was paranoid about staying healthy and looking good. He did yoga like no one's business, and I don't think he had ever had a cigarette in his life. Unlike Jasper who is a chain smoker."

"Ew."

"Double-standards, Bella, my brother smokes too."

"He's not a chain-smoker, though."

"Don't judge. It sounds strange now, but after James broke up with me I hated him so much for hurting me, I actually liked that Jasper smoked. He was so unlike James when we met."

I sat, astonished from how much she was sharing with me, thankful for every word and itching to ask questions. What if I was in luck today and she'd tell me more about her and Edward's family?

"I'm sorry you were hurt," I said sincerely.

"He was my first." Alice shrugged her shoulder. "They don't usually work out."

She glanced at me and added quickly, "There are exceptions, of course."

_Right._ Did she mean me and Edward? My heart flipped at the thought. I wanted us to be an exception to every nonsensical rule even if we hadn't spoken the words or defined our status.

I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with the silence stretching for a little too long while Alice openly studied my face.

"What about Jasper?" I asked her for sheer purpose of bringing the focus away from me. I was an open book anyway. It was Edward's family that was still a mystery to me, including Alice.

"Does Jasper treat you right?" I clarified my question, incredulity clear in my tone.

Even if Edward hadn't issued a red-alert in the most rigid way, I'd probably be dubious about Jasper on my own. From my two brief interactions with that guy, I'd gotten nothing but bad vibes and I wanted to understand what Alice saw in him.

"Why wouldn't he?" she asked slowly, cocking her head.

I shrugged, momentarily regretting my invasiveness.

"Bella, please, don't take Edward's side," she huffed, irritated. "No boy is ever going to be good enough for me in his eyes. But Edward is not perfect either, although you might disagree."

I smiled. "He is pretty awesome in my book, but true, not perfect. Although, I kind of like him that way."

"Kinda?" Alice arched her eyebrow at me. _There we go again._

"When he doesn't get hung up on silly things," I responded as lightly as I could. "Like our difference in age."

"He'll get over it, you'll see. When are you turning eighteen?"

"In two months. But sometimes I think that even when I do it won't make a difference for Edward. He's always going to be walking on a eggshells around me. It's annoying."

Alice shook her head. "No, Bella, he might have tried to scare you a little at the beginning, but your age has nothing to do with him not telling you about his birthday."

"What is it then?" I pushed, feeling like we were going in circles.

Alice sighed. "Edward hates celebrations. Birthdays, anniversaries, job promotions, and especially those happening in June. He hates the whole month of June, actually."

"Why?"

Alice darted her eyes to me and busied herself with opening a new packet of sugar for her tea. She tugged the corner, tearing the packet right in the middle and spilling the powder all over the table.

"Shit," she muttered. There went another napkin working on dusting it off.

"It's a very unfortunate month for all of us," she said finally, giving up on the cleaning and picking up what was left of her tea.

I nodded into my own cup, slightly exasperated. What was it with all that evasiveness in their family?

She sighed. "There is no secret, Bella. Just bad memories. Our mom passed away in June. It's been fourteen years."

"I'm so sorry, Alice."

Her face was sad when she smiled and whispered, "Thank you. I still miss her very much."

I kind of knew. I missed _my_ mom; thank goodness Renee was alive and well, but she was thousands miles away and I hadn't seen her in over six months.

"Want to see her picture?" Alice asked, perking up.

"Of course, I would love to."

It was a small wallet-size picture of a woman in her mid-thirties and three kids. Unmistakably, the toddler girl on her lap was Alice and a little boy with copper hair falling in his eyes standing at her left hand was Edward. He didn't seem to be in the mood for taking pictures while Alice looked happy, smiling, with her arm around the woman's neck.

"Her name was Elizabeth," Alice whispered, brushing her fingers over the edge of the photograph. This is the only picture left of all of us together. And this is Emmett."

I studied the face of the boy, his hair the same dark shade as Alice's. He looked very serious, but you could tell he didn't mean it; he was just posing and the minute after this shot was taken he probably flicked his younger brother's ear or something like that.

"She was incredible," Alice gushed. "She was a singer and a dancer, performing at the local theater. She was originally from Chicago."

I kept looking at the face of the woman with long auburn curls and green eyes who smiled into the camera with her hands around all three of her children. Still, although this family looked happy, it wasn't complete. Like mine. I decided that asking Alice about their father would be rude; hopefully there would be another opportunity to talk about him. I handed the picture back to Alice. "She was beautiful, Alice. Thank you for sharing this with me."

"You haven't seen all of it." She smiled.

I tilted my head, praying that she would elaborate.

"You know what?" Alice pushed her chair back and jumped on her feet. "What time is it? Six-thirty? I think we can start closing. It's dead here today anyway."

"Are you sure? You're always so..." It wasn't like Alice to just up and leave her business.

"Bella, no one will show up today, I just know it. Let's go."

"Sure." I got up, picking up my cup and the plate with Vera's pie leftovers. "Let me clean this up and I'll be out of your hair."

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I'm not closing early for no reason. Do you have any plans for today?"

"Um, Edward was supposed to come here, we planned to hang out. We missed one of the events at the bookstore last week." I blushed, remembering the reason why we missed it. The stockroom here had sure seen some steamy action that night; I bit my lip trying to not smile from the intense memories.

I would have lied if I said I wasn't anxiously looking forward to see Edward today. Ever since that evening, it seemed as if Edward's self-control came loose by another notch. We texted each other furiously all day, every day, and the late call last night was as close to phone sex as I imagined we would come. I couldn't even tell how we ended up talking intimately, but before I knew it, I was hanging up the phone and using my fingers to bring myself to release.

I certainly had a reason to blush from my own thoughts, and I couldn't wait to see Edward this evening, hoping that maybe, _maybe _I could find a way to tell him how last night ended and see his reaction. I giggled.

"Bella, hello?" Alice waved in front of my face. "Do you realize that you space out the second someone says Edward's name?" She chuckled.

"Uh, sorry?" I slipped into the restroom to clean the plates; her laugh followed me.

"I just called Edward and told him to stay home," she announced when I came back out.

"What? Why?" I froze.

What kind of friend was Alice if she wanted to keep me away from my... my_ flame_. Yeah, I liked that word. Edward was my flame. He was the reason I burned inside out.

"No worries, Bella, you'll see him tonight. You know why? Because I'm inviting you to our house. I think you should meet some other very important people in my life."

"But," I stammered. "Edward told me..."

"Screw Edward, he doesn't own you. You're my friend too, and he needs to stop trying to hide what's not just his."

Before I could come up with a reply, I was twirled around and being pushed out of the store.

"Alice, the register and cleaning up–"

"I just closed it, and I can come in an hour earlier tomorrow and take care of the inventory. Give me your phone; you're not talking to Edward until we get there. Follow me in your truck."

_O-okay, Miss bossy pants..._

Thirty-five minutes later we parked in front of a two-story house at Maple Grove. It was an impressive property surrounded by trees, with a view of the lake on one side and the mountains looming behind it. Charlie's house at Forks was a mini-mouse compare to this estate.

Alice hooked her arm under mine as soon as I was out of my truck.

"Edward will show you around later, there is a lot to see," she said, not letting me spend any time taking in the surroundings, and pulled me towards the house. We walked by the large car-port with several cars, and I noted that both Edward's Volvo and Harley were parked there as well. My heart did a few somersaults, pumped by anxiety and excitement. He was probably going to be very angry with me, but I missed his face, his voice, and the buzz of intensity I constantly felt in his presence.

We walked up to the house, and as we took the stairs I noticed a ramp built on the opposite side. The door swung open the moment Alice started fumbling with the keys; Edward, looking more disheveled than ever in his dark jeans that sat low on his hips and a plain black T-shirt that was way too short, stood blocking the entry-way. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Quit it, Edward, we're already here, so don't embarrass me and yourself in front our guest," Alice demanded immediately, shoving him to the side and walking in. Edward grumbled something unintelligible, raising his hand to mess up his already crazy hair, and as he did, his shirt rode up , showing a sliver of his pale skin. He shot a pained look at me. Oh, no, I was going to come in, even if just to see the results if his hand raised like that a few more times.

"Hi," I issued a quiet greeting, squeezing myself between him and the door frame.

"Bella–" he started.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my idea," I mumbled, "I would never–"

"Edward!" Alice's voice was colored by aggravation. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside. "We talked about this," she hissed at him.

They did? Obviously it went well.

"Alice, what's going on?"

We all turned in the direction of another voice. A tall, blond woman was standing in the door of the room across the wide hallway. She was in a long dark-blue robe with one hand on her hip, in another she held a bowl, with steam rolling from it.

The woman narrowed her eyes at me. "Who's this?"

"Rose, meet Bella, she's my very good friend." Alice slightly pushed me before her; I didn't budge, terrified.

"Who do we have here?" another, more familiar voice exclaimed. I looked up to find Jasper coming down the stairs. A huge smile appeared on his face when he recognized me. "Hello, Bella!"

I heard Edward stifle a groan.

Between unconvincingly cheerful Jasper, obviously annoyed Rose and less than welcoming Edward, I could easily say I was in a middle of a hostile situation.

This was not good. _Oh, Alice, what did you get me into?_

"Close the door and take your shoes off," Rose instructed us curtly. Her slight accent reminded me of one of the Renee's friends who lived on the East coast and came to visit us every few years.

"Alice, this is not safe, and–"

"Nothing wrong with bringing home a friend, Rose," Alice interrupted her defensively. "Having friends is healthy for everyone." It seemed like she was bringing up some old argument and was trying to stand her ground.

Rose visibly struggled with an answer, as if she didn't exactly disagree with what Alice was saying, but couldn't accept it either. By the way everyone held their breath waiting for her reaction, it was obvious that this woman held a lot of power in this family, which also meant that a negative reaction from her could result in only one thing, I'd be asked to leave this house immediately.

Despite the prospect of a great embarrassment, I shamelessly stared at her, unable to look away. She was intimidatingly beautiful. Gorgeous, really–long shiny hair in that fell in waves around her shoulders, smooth skin, deep-blue eyes– and even in a bath robe and slippers she had presence and poise in her. She gave me a long, scrutinizing look; I tried to keep my eyes connected with hers while she studied me. My friends were important to me too. I guess she saw something in me she approved of after all, because she finally nodded her assent.

"Wash your hands," she muttered before disappearing down the hallway. Did I hear her right?

"I didn't know we were having company tonight," Jasper said merrily, walking up to us as if nothing just happened. He reached to Alice and kissed her forehead. "Hi, sweet thing. Good day?" Smiling, Alice mouthed a 'yes'.

"That's because it wasn't your business to know," Edward said severely, finally shutting the entrance door. He gave me a reminding glance. Oh, how could I forget his warning?

"Okay. You, boys can discuss whatever fun stuff you're discussing while I'm showing Bella the house. Ready, Bella?"

_Right, as if you wouldn't drag me around against my will if I wasn't._

Apparently, the room Rose came out of earlier was the kitchen. Good size, relatively new, with a lot of counter space and nice-looking appliances. Following Alice's reminder, we took turns washing our hands, which I thought was an odd custom, but decided not to question it. Obviously Rose meant business around here.

Edward trailed behind us in silence; I could sense that he tried not to stand too close; still, it felt like he was hovering. Jasper walked in a few moments later, headed right to the stove, and started eating something straight from the pan.

"You must be kidding me!" Rose was back, changed into jeans and red tank top. Her hair was up in a bun and a few strands of her hair flew behind her as she rushed to Jasper and snatched the spoon out of his hand. Her eyes shot daggers. "Where are your manners? Get a plate. Sit down like a fucking civilized person."

_Wow._ Rose wasn't wasting time on being nice.

"Bella," Alice whispered, tugging my hand. "Don't worry about them. Let's go."

I followed her quietly, happy to leave, and only glanced at Edward once.

There were several doors down the hall.

"Do you need to use a bathroom? If you do, it's right here." Alice pointed to one of the doors. I shook my head no.

"Okay then." She turned to me with a big smile on her face. "There is someone I want you to meet." Then she opened another door and beckoned me to come inside with her.

The room was unexpectedly big and bright, the walls and curtains both light pink. The focal point of it was a large bed in the middle, and it was occupied. Propped high on the pillows was a little girl, the soft hair framing her face was similar to Rose's in waves and color. She wasn't sleeping, just resting comfortably, looking away.

"Hi, baby," Alice cooed, walking to the bed. The girl's head jerked a little and turned to the voice. "Hi, my little princess. Do you know who I brought here today? This is Bella."

Alice sat on the bed, taking the girls hand; she then twisted to look at me. "Come, Bella, don't be shy. We love company. Right, baby girl?" Alice addressed the girl again.

With a strange feeling of trepidation, I stepped closer to the bed.

"Say _hi, Bella_," Alice sang to the girl. "Say, _nice to meet you, Bella, I'm Bree_."

The girl's face twitched into a smile–small and hesitant–and only then I realized that something wasn't right with the little girl's features. There was something so profoundly different about her that I felt my heart clench and I couldn't suppress a gasp.

* * *

**A/N: The anecdote of **_**Sword of Damocles**_** was used by Roman orator Cicero in his **_**Tusculan Disputations**_**, and later was passed into the European cultural mainstream.**

**It has been a long journey for me to get to this point. I'm nervous and doing everything I can to make it right. **

**Thank you for reading and as always, I would appreciate a word from you. **


	29. Chapter 29 Subterfuge

**A/N: Thank you for reading and for leaving me your thoughts, and hello to new readers! ****Jessterday and Tegan, I'm sorry I can't reply to you, but I am thankful for your reviews. **

**In case you start wondering below. "Lolita" is a novel by Russian author Vladimir Nabokov, a story about a middle-aged man's obsession with an underage girl. He calls her Lolita.**

**Big thank you to my betas saluki168 and maxipoo1024, and to my pre-reader Rodeomom_95. Special thanks to Wednesday Addams, she knows why.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal. **

* * *

_**Chapter 27**_

_**Subterfuge**_

**EPOV**

"Lolita's kinda cute," Jasper announced with his mouth full. Sometimes it seemed like all he did was eat, smoke and talk shit. "Don't you think?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, E, I'm not blind."

"Easily fixable problem," I offered.

"Are you saying you don't like that little girl?"

"I'm saying back the fuck off and stop talking."

It was pointless to deny; she was my Bella, and it was probably written all over my face. _Alice, Alice, what have you done?_

Jasper slumped against the back of his chair, placed his arms behind his head, and stretched his legs out. "E, I don't care if Lolita there is the best lay in town and you can't stay away." I clenched my teeth and didn't respond. Responding never worked. "All I'm asking is to remember that even if the mark can wait for you to make the move, Rose can't."

No, I was not going to respond. Jasper was pushing me for nothing. Although, it probably was a good idea to go check on the girls.

"Stay out of my life, Jasper." I stood up. "Mind your own business. And if you hurt Alice, I will end you." I meant it.

Rose was standing at the door of Bree's room, looking in. She reminded me of a vigilant hawk, ready to take action the moment something wasn't to her liking. Alice was there talking in her usual cooing voice. I hated that voice. She only used it with Bree, like she was talking to a baby or a cute puppy. I knew that Rose couldn't stand it either. The distinct clicking sound was a response to something Alice just asked and I saw Rose smile. Bree was responding in her own way, which also meant that she was comfortable enough around a stranger.

Bella was that stranger. I heard her say something softly, and Rose tensed immediately.

"Rose," I called to her quietly.

"What?" She turned to me right away.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Rose did a double-take inside the room again. "Okay, make it quick."

Jasper was out of the kitchen, the plate of unfinished food was still on the table. With him you never knew, maybe he was done already and as usual didn't clean up, or maybe he was going to come back. I shut the door to make sure that my conversation with Rose stayed between us.

"Do you know that girl?" Rose flipped the switch on the coffee maker and sat down next to me.

"This is what I wanted to talk to you about." I rubbed my chest, desperately needing a smoke, but it would have to wait.

"What's going on, Edward?" Rose sat up straighter. "Alice is completely hung up on her."

"They became friends fast."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?" I tried to not look at her.

"You can't take your eyes off of her, Edward. She doesn't belong here."

_Fuck, don't I know it?_

"I know, Rose, I know."

"Then what is she doing here? How old she?"

"Seventeen." My voice was barely audible.

"Jesus Christ, Edward. Have you lost your mind?"

I didn't reply. What could I say? _Yes, I surely have. _

I looked at her heavily. "Rose, you have to help me. Please talk to Alice. Tell her that she can't bring Bella here."

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Can't control your sister and your... what is she to you, Edward? The girl?" Rose stared at me expectantly.

Cat definitely got my tongue on that one.

"Not the point, Rose. Let it go."

"What about that other girl in Olympia? Her, we need."

"She is just a mark." This time I looked her straight in the eye. "I'm not fucking my job."

Rose dug her nails into her scalp. "I wasn't implying that. I'm sorry, Edward."

That was the second time in the past month she had apologized to me for something. Although, I was the one who owed her years of atonement. There were days when I asked myself whether I had done enough already; one look at Bree was normally all I needed to have my answer.

I remembered that day, two years ago, when Rose told me I had to grow up - and my reaction to her words. I had no right to be mad at her but I was. I found her demands to help her and Jasper preposterous. She slapped me that day so hard, my face ached long after. She wasn't that violent on the day of Bree's accident, another painful memory, although I fully expected it then. Yet, she was absolutely livid and ruthless with her words and actions on the day I refused to help her and Jasper. Today, I could understand why upon learning that I had neglected Bree - left two and a half year old alone in the bathtub - Rose didn't try to kill me.

She didn't because although she was crushed by grief, she still had hope that Bree was going to fully recover. It was different a year later when that hope almost completely seeped away, leaving dread and hate in its wake. At that point I wasn't just the reason why her baby girl was disabled, I was also an obstruction in her way to fix it. I was a daily reminder why her life had turned upside down, shifted off its axis and was never going to switch back to normal again.

"I left her for just a few minutes, and there was barely any water in the tub." I was so, so sorry.

"Selfish monster! You destroyed my family," Rose moaned while she thrashed in Emmet's arms at the hospital, spitting in my face.

Rose still believed in Bree's recovery. Three years later, after months of sophisticated treatments, daily physical therapy and endless amount of medical bills, the progress was there, but we all knew that Bree would never be the same. Still, she was our sweet girl, the joy of our lives. She was our little fighter. And as long she kept fighting, none of us had any excuse to give up.

"Edward, I'm worried," Rose pulled me back into the present. "Are you sure you can do this job? I know Jasper has been a prick to you lately. I'll deal with him. But I need to know that you won't fuck this up."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Things are complicated," I admitted.

She glared. "Complicated? Like it has ever been easy? I need to put a large deposit down by the end of September for Bree's treatment in Arizona. Do whatever it takes, Edward, but we can't lose that opportunity. If there is even a chance that you can't do this, tell me now so we can talk with Jasper..." It was so unusual for Rose, but she appeared almost frantic.

"I am not going to fuck this up," I rushed to assure her. "I wish Jasper was more forthcoming about..." I lowered my voice and glanced at the door "... the job. We have to talk to him about why he's been knowingly withholding key information from us. We can't afford that."

"I agree." Rose darted her eyes to the door as well and said almost in a whisper, "I don't trust him either, but we don't have a lot of choices; he's got us all by the neck. Just keep an eye on him, okay?"

That went without saying, but Jasper wasn't why I asked her to come to talk to me here. I chewed on the pad of my thumb, contemplating on the choice of my next words.

"Is there something else?" Rose asked.

"Yes, there is." I inhaled and exhaled slowly.

"Spit it out, Edward. I want to go back to check on Bree."

I hadn't forgotten that Bella was there too.

"Okay." I placed my arms on the table and leaned closer to her. "I want to know if you plan to live like this forever."

"What do you mean?"

"Sooner or later we're gonna get caught."

"No we ain't. Not if we're smart and careful."

"Rose, look at what we are getting ourselves into. Things are no longer about being card sharp in some stupid poker game, or phishing online for credit card accounts. Even skimming from those nouveau riche assholes at the Four Seasons was nothing compared to what we're doing this time. Do you realize that with each job it's getting more fucked up and dangerous? What makes it even worse is we are messing with people who don't deserve it."

I had thought about it a lot lately, about where we were going and what my family was becoming. Did Rose even care?

She absentmindedly rubbed her index finger over her silver wedding band. Even having enough money, she still hasn't upgraded it back to something fancier; that was what I admired in Rose—her selflessness, her need to put her family first. But Bree wasn't the only reason why she kept going. Rose hated where she ended up in life, hated her dependency on other people's decisions, and she refused to spend her life begging. Rose was not a beggar, and if there was one thing I should be learning from her, it should be that if I wanted to stop running, I had to own my choices too.

"Rose, did you hear me?" I asked, more urgently. Someone could walk in any moment.

She raised her tired eyes to meet mine. "We can't back out of this one, Edward. Bree needs it. "

I groaned.

"Listen to me." She placed her hand on my arm. "Do this job, do it like we planned and we will talk about what we want to do after, I promise."

It was a vague promise, but a promise nonetheless.

"This one time, and then we'll talk," I repeated, not wanting to let go of the sliver of hope rooting itself sharply into my chest. "I still need your help with Alice, though."

"What about Alice?"

"She brought Bella here when I specifically asked her not to."

"How do you suggest I argue with her about it? If you're unsuccessful in forbidding her to do something, do you think she'd listen to me?"

"Should I remind you that Alice is Bree's appointed guardian?"

"Unnecessary. There is nothing more important to me than my daughter. Do you think that girl might have a bad affect on my Bree?" she asked, a worry ringing in her voice.

"What? Of course not!"

"Then why would I start a confrontation with Alice over something not important? I can't afford to have Alice resent me over her new toy."

"Bella is not a toy, and I'm worried about her being here. What she might see and hear. I'm worried about Jasper affecting her. He's a fucking poison."

"Jaz can be brutal, you're right, even I can take him only in small doses."

At least we were on the same page where it came to Jasper. I nodded, although not satisfied with Rose's response.

"I have warned Bella about him as well. It's Alice who is pushing it this time. She is going too far."

"Who met Bella first, you or Alice?" Rose asked, getting up. She poured us both coffee and placed a cup in front of me.

"I did." I tilted my head in thanks.

"Do you want to share the details about how Alice got to know her?" She didn't sit back down and leaned with her backside on the counter instead.

"Not particularly."

"Did you sleep with her?" She sipped from her cup.

"Cutting straight to the chase, Rose, aren't you?" I scowled.

"I have no time for bullshit, Edward."

"No, it's not like that with her," I answered after a pause.

"Interesting. Would you tell me the truth if you were?" she asked.

"Only if my family's well-being depended on it."

"So, it's none of my business, got it. Then I think it's pretty clear who is responsible for dealing with this mess."

"So much for team work when_ I _need it," I muttered, picking up my cup.

"Look," Rose sighed, "I don't know what you're expecting from me here. It's bad enough that I have a stranger in my house thanks to Alice. Now I'm finding out that the jailbait in there with my daughter is actually your love interest."

I spit my coffee back out at her hasty assessment.

"Want a piece of advice?" Rose asked, ignoring my reaction to her previous words.

I wiped my chin and placed the cup back, not feeling like having any more coffee. "Well, I asked for it, didn't I?"

She smiled. "It looks to me as this is a fairly recent development, and the girl is already a huge distraction. If I were you, I'd break it off now and send her away. If she is friends with Alice because of you, we won't see much of her after. If she cares about Alice, there's not a lot we can do. They'll stay friends but hopefully outside of this house."

"And where would it leave me?" I asked, fighting the urge to raise my voice and trying to ignore the constricting feeling behind my ribs caused by Rose's suggestion.

"It would leave you with a lot less chances to go to jail, you idiot. Can you even focus lately?"

"You sound a lot like Jasper _lately_," I mocked her back. "One prick in the house is enough!"

I couldn't even find it in me to regret my rude tone.

"So, that's a no to the break-up suggestion?" Rose responded coolly. "That's okay, it was just one idea."

"You have more?" I sneered. "I'm all ears."

"Well," Rose stepped to the sink to wash her cup. "If you want me to act like the cold-hearted bitch I am and drive Bella out of here, I could."

"No need to be too harsh. It's not her fault we're such fuck-ups."

"It's not Alice's either. Yet, here we all are."

"Jesus, Rose, I don't know if I could hate this situation any more than I already do. All I wanted was for Alice to not feel as lonely. She's been depressed again, and I just couldn't watch her breaking down further. What do I do now?"

"Calm down, Edward. Talk to Alice, but without ordering her around for once. You're the only one she listens to."

"Besides Jasper," I muttered.

"She is not stupid. Just talk to her."

"I already tried."

"Then try again."

"What about Bella?"

"I'll do my part. It won't be hard to be a critic of everything your pretty little girl does. I don't think she'll ever want to come back here after I'm done with her. However, it will be your responsibility to make sure she keeps her mouth shut about us. Can you do at least that much?"

Being the sick bastard I was, I could think of a few ways to keep Bella's mouth occupied, none of which could be voiced out loud.

I cleared my throat before answering. "I'll do it. Family comes first, I know."

"You got it."

But of course, Bella had to go and ruin our perfect little plan.

After Rose left, I lingered back, calming myself down, and when I went back to get Bella, the scene before me took my breath away.

Bella was lying on her stomach on Bree's bed, facing her. She was supporting herself by her elbows with her famous notepad placed between them and was reading to Bree in a smooth, low voice.

"The girl's hands were folded peacefully on the table and her chin rested on them. She didn't move," Bella recited. There was no annoying cooing, no careful spelling of each word - Bella treated Bree as equal as any of us.

"The girl was looking intently at the glass full of water on the opposite side of the table. She was thirsty, but she couldn't reach for it, her body was too weak to move. She wanted that water, just one sip would do it even."

I watched Bree slowly moving her hand on the bed towards the notepad. Bella turned the page, continuing, "The girl focused all her will on that glass of water. If she couldn't get up and pick it up, she was going to will it to move it to her."

Bree reached the edge of the notepad, the nail of her index finger scratched the black ink on the yellow page. Engrossed in the story, Bella tapped Bree's fingers lightly, stopping her from damaging the paper. Her voice and Bree's uneven breathing were the only sounds in the room.

"Taking another deep breath, the girl stared at the glass, the expression on her face strained. She wanted that water, she needed that water and she was too proud to ask for help."

Bella's fingertips brushed over Bree's tiny knuckles. I wasn't sure if she knew what she was doing, and she certainly had no idea how much Bree hated to be touched by strangers, since all most of the strangers she encountered did was poke, prod, and cause great discomfort.

"Do you want to turn that page for me?" Bella addressed Bree. "The most interesting part is still ahead."

Rose made a chocking sound behind me when Bree responded to Bella's request by pushing the page with unsteady hand. All that did was wrinkle it, and I was sure that Rose was going to react, object, protect her little girl whose movements were not well-coordinated.

But she didn't. She kept silent and motionless while Bella said, "It never works the first time for me either. Want to try again?"

Bree jerked her head, making a clicking sound with her mouth.

"Go ahead then." Bella smiled. Bree pushed the page again, harder this time. It flung half-way, and Bella blew some air on it, successfully turning it. "There! And I didn't even have to touch it."

Bree clicked her tongue again, this time in approval. Her fingers were still by the notepad, seeking Bella's contact. Bella started reading again, rubbing the tip of Bree's index finger between hers. They were both into the story, completely at ease, as if they'd known each other forever.

Alice sat on the glider chair in the corner of the room, giving us a smile that was nothing but triumphant. I frowned at her. If she thought that bringing Bella here was for the best, I was still not convinced.

Looking for Rose's support in this matter, I turned to her. The soft, loving expression on her face told me I had lost. Bella wasn't going anywhere.

xxx

"She told me her night shift is this Thursday," I informed the guys as we settled at the table in the basement.

Today it was just the three of us since Rose was taking acupuncture classes in Port Angeles—anything she thought Bree could benefit from.

"So, we have what, three days?" Jasper asked.

"Not much time, I know. But it's not like I haven't been preparing for it for weeks. I think I know what I'm going to do."

"You think or you know?" Emmett piped in. "I want you to be sure. A hundred and fifty percent."

"Well, that's why we're here. I won't be able to do it all by myself."

"Action, finally!" Jasper rubbed his hands together. "Bring it, E!"

"Aren't you chipper today?" Emmett grumbled.

"Isn't he always?" I muttered through my teeth.

"You two need to get a life."

"Shut up," Emmett and I said at the same time.

"Back to the point. Focus, Jasper," I said, sitting down. "We already know the floor she works on."

"Does it matter?" Jasper asked.

"It might, depending on the outcome of my mission. We'll discuss it later. Jasper, congratulations, you have been recently employed by the Capital Village Management Company as part of their cleaning crew." I pushed the ID badge to him on the table.

"Neat! I was wondering if I'd ever be able to be this guy," he commented about his picture on the badge. "Wait. Cleaning crew? You made me what? A janitor?"

It was my turn to gloat. "Yeah, Jaz, a janitor. Have a problem with that?"

"I look too geeky on this picture to be a janitor," he protested.

"I don't think so. Braces and glasses are not necessarily the attributes of nerds. And let's face it, glasses or not, you look dumb in any outfit." I couldn't pass up an opportunity to bring him down just a little.

"Hey, take it easy, we are supposed to be a team."

"Oh, we are, except I'll do the brain work and you'll do the cleaning up part. You're welcome to switch with me."

I knew I got him, and he knew it too. Our score was slowly but surely evening out. And fuck if it didn't feel good.

"Enough, kids, moving on," Emmett reminded us why we were there, talking.

"All right, all right, E is the brains this time and I'll be rocking the janitor suit. What are we doing there?"

"It will depend. I still need access to her laptop to download the log, which I'll have to analyze later. I have a strong suspicion that I can't piggyback on their network with a wiretap. It's a bank office we're talking about. There's no way they don't encrypt the data on the network. And I don't think we want to find out the hard way. So, my idea was to connect to her laptop while she is not looking to grab the log, which is almost impossible since she doesn't really leave me alone with it. And the whole point of getting the log is to find out her passwords."

"She doesn't have to leave you alone with it, you know," Jasper said with a smirk. "You can make her a satisfied woman and cradle her to sleep. I still don't understand why you're taking the hard way instead of choosing the obvious."

"I will not fuck her. And before you say anything else, I want to warn you, mention this again, and I'm out."

"Lolita got you by the balls, didn't she?" He laughed. "All right, all right, I won't mention it again," he said quickly seeing that I started to get up.

Emmett watched our exchange silently, and I wondered if he would actually let me walk out if things got heated. I hoped he would, although I'd never want him to have to choose between forcing his brother to become a whore and his need to protect the well-being of his wife and daughter.

"Tell us your plan," he requested after giving me a moment. I was thankful for it.

"The plan is actually pretty simple. I've done a lot of research and contacted some people. As a result and after spending more money than Rose would want to hear about, I've got a little device that can solve some of our problems for us."

I stood up and dug into the back pocket of my jeans taking out a small, flat box. I placed it on the table and opened it for both Jasper and Emmett to see.

Jasper whistled with fascination. "Wow! So small! What is it?"

I swatted his hand away from the box. "It's a USB flash-drive, except it was designed using nanotechnology. It has brains inside."

_As small as yours_ _but a lot faster, _I wanted to add, but decided to not push it this time.

"So, what does it do?" Emmett came up closer to look at the device over my shoulder. "It looks like nothing."

"It sure is something, Em. Especially considering what I paid for it. But here is the plan first. I need to distract pink girl long enough to disconnect one of her USB devices, like her keyboard or mouse and use this one as a hub. It's so small she won't even notice that there is something between the port and the cord. I wanted to do that in her apartment, but she doesn't use any external devices at home—just a laptop and the power cord, that's it. There is no way to hide it and no matter how tiny it is, I wouldn't take that chance. Besides, this device is not on the market. It's easy to trace the buyer."

"Okay, and what will it do once you've connected it?" Emmett asked again.

"I wrote a little program which will call for the keystroke log I planted on her laptop earlier. It will search for the log and fish it out, saving it on the flash-drive. Once it's done, it will erase any trace of the keystroke program and the log itself on her computer. See, simple."

"And pretty brilliant, my brother." Emmett smiled.

"How long will it take?" This time Jasper was more engaged in the conversation then I'd ever seen him when it came to the technology talk. "Will you be able to take it out right then?"

"Theoretically, yes, but it's risky," I answered. "I'd be pushing my luck installing and removing it with the girl around, but I will try."

"What happens if you can't?"

"That's when you come in."

"You'll need my janitor skills and hot looks to clean up after you." Jasper grinned.

"Exactly, Jasper, you'll be doing what you're best at—flirting with the trash."

"E, you're on the roll today. It must be love."

"Oh please, in your dreams."

"Guys!" Emmett warned us.

I glanced at Emmett and turned to Jasper again. "I'll have to jam her office lock. She'll probably report it in the morning and it will be replaced the next day. So, you'll need to come in early during the usual cleaning shift and remove the device while the lock to the office is still broken. I will tell you exactly where I'll connect the device, and you already know what it looks like. Be careful with it, the rest of our job will depend on what will be on it. Can I trust you to do this?"

I didn't trust Jasper in the slightest, but it wasn't something I wanted to start addressing here.

"It sounds easy enough." Jasper nodded in agreement.

"If there wasn't one condition. I'm assuming she has a docking station in her office to connect the peripheral devices. If she doesn't, this idea flops and we'll have to move to plan B. And in that case we'll need the floor plans of the building. But we are not there yet."

"Okay, assuming we're successful. What will we do after that? How are we actually going to get to the accounts?" Jasper asked, his tapping fingers indicating that he had finally gotten his fill of techie talk.

"Once we have the passwords, I'll need her fob key to complete the transaction," I answered. "That's when Emmett will come in. Em, did you get what you need to find the accounts?"

"Jasper gave me the criteria I need. We can definitely work with that. I'm ready."

"Good. Then the next step would be to wait for the opportunity to use the passwords and the fob at the same time. We're getting close. Tell Rose the good news," I told a nodding Emmett.

I sighed. I was not looking forward to the last part of the operation. Although, I was going to try to avoid touching the pink girl at all cost it might be the only way to get what we needed. I asked myself many times if I would have resisted it this much before I met Bella. I asked myself once if I could go through with it today, if that was the only way to help my family. Could I? The answer was so obvious; I didn't have to torture myself asking again. The answer itself was torture enough.

Would I hate myself for doing it? Yes, forever. Would I ever be able to look Bella in the eye and pretend it didn't matter? I doubted that.

My only resolution was to be smarter, to think harder and to make no mistakes. Simple? Sure. I could do that—or so I thought.

xxx

"My grave-yard shift is tomorrow," the pink girl unnecessarily reminded me next time we met, watching my reaction carefully.

I thought for a moment about what an appropriate response would be. I was probably expected to be upset. What do guys do when they hope to get laid and it falls through? They try to get into a girl's pants at the first available opportunity. Like now. The fuck was I going to do that.

"That's double-shift pay, right?" I asked, since all other responses failed me.

The pink girl sighed. "I guess that's the bright side."

If she only knew.

I grinned at her. "You know, I can come see you. Keep you a company for a while. I can bring some pizza and beer..." I offered.

"Beer?" She cocked her eyebrow at me. "Are you trying to get on my good side?"

"Not yours, silly. You must have your crew there, bored to tears. We need them occupied."

She smiled broadly, loving the suggestiveness of my words, and as much I hated it I couldn't wait for her response. Knowing who'd be there on the floor covering the normal night shift would be extremely useful information.

"They'll be ecstatic over free food. Ray will worship at your feet if you got a six-pack for him, and he'll be a lot more fun when I beat him in Angry Birds next time."

"Angry Birds is out in multi-player mode already?"

"No, but I'm one of their betas. I get my perks early."

"No shit." I grinned.

"Shit." She grinned back.

"So, six-pack for one guy?" I fished for more information. I wasn't going to deviate from my mission here.

"Terry doesn't drink at all. She's vegan or whatever."

"Lucky her?" I joked, and she laughed out loud.

"And that's it? Just the three of you?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's plenty to just monitor the system. There is a protocol if something major goes down. All passwords to the system expire and the systems shut down pretty much instantly with one push of a button. If there was a serious threat with the slightest possibility that the system was penetrated, we call for an immediate investigation and must notify our customers as well. All standard procedure."

_And all good to know._

"Okay, what time is good to stop by?" I asked, running my fingers over her arm. She shivered and I stepped back.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" The pink girl searched my eyes, a wide smile lighting her face. "You're serious with this shit, Will, you really _are _going to come over?"

"Of course, I am. I'm dying to see where you work. What you do is fucking fascinating." I decided that a good dose of honesty and flattery might get me where I needed.

She shook her head slowly, thinking. "That might be such a bad idea. I don't know..."

"Are you telling me you have never ordered pizza during your night shift before?" I challenged her.

She laughed. "More than my waistline needs to see." She narrowed her eyes at me. "I have to admit, I might enjoy you sneaking in a little more than I should. You unleash the wild side in me."

That was supposed to be an attempt at flirting.

Fuck, she was awkward as hell at it.

"Stick with me." I laughed. "You ain't seen nothing yet." That was entirely true, and hopefully it would stay that way.

She reached up and kissed me on the cheek, brushing her mouth a little too close to mine. It wasn't easy to keep a pleasant smile on my face and wave her good-bye when all I wanted to do was wipe that kiss off my face right that instant.

The next evening I was ready. I arrived close to ten in the pick-up truck provided to me by Jasper (I was not going to ask him how he came to own it) with the local pizza sign lit up on the roof. Half of my face was hidden under a cap with the pizza joint logo on it. My hair was carefully tucked in. I already knew the locations of the cameras installed in the lobby. There was also one in the elevator, and I was about to find out the surveillance situation on the floor of the pink girl's place of work as well. I doubted it was anything special, since it wasn't even the main office. Besides, I already knew the company hired to monitor the feed. That feed was going to be replaced by images of the empty lobby, elevator cabin and the hallways as soon as I was done there. Emmett joked that I had watched the "Ocean" movies one too many times. My brother needed to have a little more faith in me; I wasn't spending the money allocated by Rose for this job for nothing. I could teach the Ocean's crew a trick or two.

I called the pink girl from downstairs, asking her to come down and let me in.

"Pizza delivery, ma'am," I drawled. I was going to pretend that I didn't know her and hoped that she played along.

She did.

In the elevator she stepped very close to me, stretching up and bringing her nose next to my neck.

"Mmhmm," she moaned quietly, "that pizza smells delicious."

I had a lot of steps outlined for this mission; apparently, I had to add one more - and not throwing up in close proximity of the pink girl could be the one that might just kill me.

I turned to her and gave her a tight smile.

"Don't worry, boy." She trailed her finger over my shoulder and down my chest. "We tip well."

Okay, that might have been kind of funny. I snorted but didn't say anything.

The elevator dinged arriving on the eleventh floor. The pink girl made a gesture to let me go first. When I did, she giggled behind me. She was watching my ass, which I knew she did whenever possible. Fuck my life, why was I always the one being subjected to shit like that? I could _code _the pants off of her if I wanted to. I was that good at what I did, and yet I was expected to come here and act like a fucking call-boy.

"Where to, ma'am?" I turned to look at her. The floor was dark with only a few lights blinking here and there, with rows of cubicles in the middle and the offices by the walls—typical office setup.

The pink girl picked up her badge with the key hooked to it. "Follow me; we'll set it up in my office."

That was exactly why I was here, wasn't it? I should have been rejoicing, yet I was dreading being alone with pink girl in her office.

Nonetheless, I had to follow my plan.

Her office was small with one window facing another building. I scanned the walls and the corners of the ceiling quickly. Her laptop was on the table, open, and not attached to any devices. But I wasn't going to stress, because the battery would have to die sooner or later and the docking station with the monitor, keyboard and mouse was sitting right there next to the laptop. At some point this evening she would have to dock it.

"You can leave it right here. Let me get Ray," she offered.

I wasn't ecstatic about being introduced to anyone here.

"Do you really think I came here to see your friend Ray?" I tried to give her my signature smile which ended up being me twisting my mouth to the side.

"I guess not." Her eyes were shining with hope. "Why did you really come here, Will?"

"That's a good question, isn't it?"

She groaned. "Listen, it's really not a good idea for you to stay here long. But I'm glad you came."

She stepped between me and the table with the pizza and looked at me expectantly. A kiss, she was waiting for a kiss. I was waiting for my nausea to pass.

"You can tip me now, you know, before you forget," I suggested bending around her and tapping on the pizza box.

"Right." She grimaced. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Oh, do you have a fridge?"

"Yes, of course, in the kitchen."

"Well, why don't you put these puppies in there to chill for a few minutes?" I handed her the beer. "To keep your Angry Birds partner happy, you know?"

She snorted. "Look how much you care about our office morale. I'll be right back."

A weird feeling of deja vu washed over me. I'd already been in a situation like this; I'd already gone through a similar experience. It wasn't in the same room, the circumstances were somewhat different, but the principle was the same. I was rushing and running. Always running.

She came back shortly.

"Woo, it stinks in here," she said as soon as she stepped into the office. "I think I should move the pizza to the conference room."

"I'll help you." I glanced at the cables surrounding the docking station one more time, making sure it looked just the way it had before I came here. I couldn't tell the difference and that was good enough for me.

"Are you going to have a slice?" she asked as we started walking towards the elevator. The conference room was apparently on the way to it. "For all your trouble."

"You know, I already overextended my welcome here and might get you in trouble." I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

"Sorry to say, but you might be right. We appreciate the treat though. Ray thanks you in advance." She stuck her tongue out at me.

"Don't forget Terry. Terry will love me too."

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "Whatever, _Don Juan_. You sure you don't want to grab at least a beer to take with you?" she asked again.

"No, babe, thank you." And this time, happy to finally be out of there, I planted a soft kiss on her lips. One kiss wouldn't kill me.

Or at least I told myself that it meant nothing, even though the pink girl's flushed cheeks told me she thought otherwise.

* * *

**A/N: **_**Don Juan**_** - was a fictional character, a heartthrob and a heart-breaker. His exploits have been cataloged in many and varied musical and literary forms. My personal favorite is the drama **_**The Stone Guest**_** by Alexander Pushkin, which was, in effect, a nineteenth-century fanfic of Mozart's **_**Don Giovanni. **_

**Please remember that this story is a word of fiction. Don't try any of this at home. Nanotechnology is real, and I have a few stocks in it. **

**Will you tell me what you think? Do you still trust me? Thank you for reading. **


	30. Chapter 28 Yeast

**A/N: Hello again. Thank you for your support and patience. **

**I'm grateful for my beta saluki168 and my pre-reader philadelphic for being awesome. I failed to thank my husband (aka "hot hasban") for brainstorming with me last chapter. I came up with the ideas and technologies, and he told me whether they were realistic or crazy. I ended up with crazy. We work well together. :)**

**Oh, and, you guys! I got a real treat tonight from my friend DreamofTheEndless! Sinnerman was featured on Avant Garde Awards: **http:/bit(dot) ly/rnXkg0. **To all of you who agreed and wrote such thoughtful, kind words about Sinnerman, thank you so much! I'm truly touched.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 28**

_**Yeast**_

('fermenting', 'bubbling up', shares a root with 'zeal')

**BPOV**

"Who keeps texting you, B?"

After three messages, one after another within the last hour, I could no longer pretend I didn't hear them.

"I'll get to them later." I sighed against his chest, tightening my arms around him even more. I reached to kiss his chin, and he brought his lips to mine.

"You tell me now," he insisted after a brief kiss.

"It's inconsequential." I stared at his lips, which were too far away. I wanted his tongue in my mouth, not just because that way I would be excused from answering his questions, but also because I missed his kisses, the taste of him. He was too tense, too far away today, and I needed him, I needed more of him.

"Then text them back and tell them you're busy," he suggested, leaning to my ear. His lips traveled down the slope of my neck, and he sucked lightly on my skin at the base of it. I shivered and pushed myself against his groin.

Being on Edward's lap, I couldn't check and answer the messages discreetly. Discreetly, because I didn't want him to see who had been pestering me all evening.

"Bella, if you don't answer it, I will," he growled quietly while leaning slightly away and looking at my face.

I sighed and pulled my phone out of my pocket. To taunt Edward a little, I ground myself against him while doing it.

He groaned. "Little minx."

The first message said, _**Bella, wanna hang out tomorrow night? -Mike**_

The second, twenty minutes later, was of similar content. _**I want to take you to dinner. My treat. - Mike**_

The third was worse than the first two. _**Or we can hang out at my house. Parents out this week! - Mike**_

I peeked a glance at Edward. Of course he had read all three over my shoulder and was glowering at my fingers as I was frantically deleting all three messages.

"Don't you want to answer that?" he asked calmly. Too calmly.

"Not really."

"I take it the boy doesn't know you are not available," he commented, stopping my hand from hiding the phone in my pocket. I winced. That was a nice way to describe our attachment to each other. _Not available_. Could it be more generic?

I shook my head.

"How come?" he insisted.

"It never came up. I don't discuss my personal life with him."

"He's obviously deluding himself about his importance to you. Do you like to string him along?"

"You think I'm doing that?" I balked.

"I don't know. Judging by his texts he thinks he has hope."

"Well, it doesn't come from me."

"Then why won't you just tell him to fuck off?"

I forced a laugh. "It doesn't work. He keeps coming back, so I started ignoring him. New tactic I'm testing."

The fact that Edward called me "unavailable", which didn't exactly describe what we were, didn't sit well with me. Ever since I learned about the other girl he was "business-meeting" with, in the evenings no less, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it he wasn't telling me about. It was low of me, I knew it, but yes, I somewhat enjoyed the jealous gleam in Edward's eyes when he questioned me about Mike Newton.

"He should know, Bella."

His words kind of ticked me off.

"Aren't you the one insisting that we don't advertise _us_?" I asked, upset with how one-way-street it seemed to work with us. "The news will spread like rapid fire the second I tell Mike that I'm not single. Would you prefer that?"

"You don't owe him any details."

"No, but my dad would want to know. It's a small town, Edward, remember? People talk."

"Bella." He took the phone from my hand and tossed it to the side; it fell with a sharp clunky sound somewhere on the floor. I hoped it survived this most recent unfair treatment - it had been getting a lot of it lately.

Edward turned me on his lap to face him and pulled my knees on either side of his hips. "You're mine. _Mine_." He shifted his legs apart under me, making me sink lower in between. Bringing his hands to cup my bottom, he pressed me to him.

"Say it." He pushed himself onto me. We both groaned. "Say that you're mine."

"Yours only," I moaned against his lips and pressed my mouth to his in invitation. His tongue entered me, swiping inside, his teeth grazed over my lower lip. He sucked it in, pulling me closer to him, his fingers twisting the hem of my top.

"Why do I always feel like I can never get enough of you?" he breathed between kisses.

"Because it isn't." I slid against him, feeling him hard under me.

"It's not normal, what you do to me," he said into my neck.

"I don't mind." I smiled, pushing my fingers into his hair. He sighed at my touch.

"I always feel like I hold my breath until the next time I see you," I told him. "Like, I can't breathe when you're not with me."

"I know."

"You can't leave me. If you do, I will never breathe again." I was being dramatic, I knew that, but I couldn't help it. Short of declaring that I was in love with him, there was not much else I could say to show him what I felt for him. I closed my eyes listening to him inhaling against my skin. He wrapped himself tightly around me and whispered something.

"What is it, sweetheart?" I asked.

"I need you to live, Bella," he said, not breaking his firm hold of me and not letting me look at him. "No matter what happens, you have to live your life."

Goosebumps covered my arms. There it was again, the morose tone in his voice and the finality in his words. Just when I thought we had gained some headway in our relationship, he was trying to pull away whatever small feeling of security I had about us.

But he was here, I reminded myself. His hands and mouth were on me - claiming, posessive - and that was enough for me to quickly find some semblance of balance and hold on to it.

His lips moved over my shoulder, brushing up and down my arm, and a different kind of goosebumps broke out over my skin under his tongue. He was rough with his words, but he was so gentle with his touches. Bringing his mouth down to the bend of my elbow, he traced the sensitive part of my skin there. I couldn't decide whether I was ticklish or aroused until he burrowed his nose deeper, inhaling. He nipped at the skin there, unhurriedly, first with his lips, then with his teeth. And just like that, I was gasping.

"I can feel your heart racing," he murmured, "I feel it right here, my impatient... sweet... beautiful girl." He was kissing the same spot over and over again between words until I started to moan.

"I want to live for _you_," I told him, leaning down to kiss his hair. "You just need to let me."

He stopped mid-kiss and straightened, frowning.

"No, please, do it again," I asked. "It feels so, so good."

The tension in his eyes eased and it made me smile. I'd already done it more than once - distracted him by confessing how good he could make me feel - and it worked every darn time. I was going to use it until it grew old, hoping it never would.

"Do you hear my heart racing now?" I asked him.

He pressed his fingers to the spot where he just had his mouth on me. "There are other places on your body I want to feel your heart pulsing, places a lot more telling." The wicked spark in his eyes made my breath hitch.

"Show me," I said with a sudden rasp in my voice. I loved this Edward - gentle, yet forward, greedy. I'd been seeing more and more of him like this lately, and it surprised and excited me every time that much more.

"I will."

"When?" He was right, I _was _impatient.

He looked at me straight. "Kiss me, Bella."

And I did. This time I was the one pushing him down, twisting his shirt up, flattening my palms against his warm skin. We matched in fire, and want, and need. All the while I kept grinding, relishing the sounds I was eliciting from Edward.

"Bella, I'm going to come like this," he grunted.

I stopped kissing him, but I didn't stop moving against him. Keeping my mouth next to his, I was watching his face, while he was getting close. I wanted to see him when he let go, and I wished there was nothing between us when he did.

His eyes fluttered.

"Don't, Edward. Look at me," I demanded, afraid I'd miss it.

He blinked slowly but obeyed, intense green flashing brightly.

"Are you close?" I touched his lips with mine, coaxing them to open wider.

"Not without you." He let me feel his tongue, smooth, tasting so sweet. His hands stilled my hips after he thrust against me one more time. "And it's too messy this way." He winced, sitting up. I could tell he was uncomfortable. I knew how he felt, it felt hot and achy between my legs too.

"_This _way?" I arched my brow. We had progressed quickly since the last time we helped each other to a climax in the stock room several weeks ego. Not fast enough, although I saw it was difficult for Edward to keep things chaste with me. I sure wasn't helping. Wasn't going to.

"You'll give me a stroke." He chuckled, kissing my nose.

"Uh, medically speaking, it's impossible," I teased him.

"Why's that?"

"Your blood flow is currently headed in the opposite direction from the area responsible for a stroke."

He laughed. "Is that right?"

I was out of my mind horny and Edward was out of this world beautiful. That could be my only excuse, if anyone ever asked, why I got the nerve to reach down and press my hand where he was still very hard.

He shot straight up. "Bella."

"Don't... wound my pride, Edward. Say no only if you mean it."

He placed his hand on top of mine. "Say no? Shouldn't that be my line?"

"Actually, it has been, haven't you noticed?" I grumbled.

"B, listen to me." He took my hands and placed them on his shoulders, then he kissed me. First softly, then deepening the kiss until I was breathless and dizzy again. He was out of breath too. "I want to touch you, badly. And I want to be inside you. I fantasize about it so much, sometimes I think I might lose my mind waiting for it to happen."

New wave of desire rippled through me, tangling my thoughts, loosening my tongue.

"I ache, Edward," I said honestly. "I ache for you so much, it hurts."

"You think I'm better? I have a permanent case of..." He paused, an elfin smile touched his face "...of hurt by now. But we are not doing this in my car. However comfortable it might be with the reclined seats, this is not the place."

"But it's not just about the right place, is it?" I challenged him. If he mentioned my age one more time I was going to cause some property damage.

"No," he admitted after hesitating for a moment. "And no, it's not just about how old you are. I'm over it, although I do want to wait."

"Why is it so important? What difference will six weeks make?"

"It's one thing I can control and make right. Let me, please."

His voice was tender, but the deep line between his eyebrows made him appear harsher, more distant. I touched the side of his face.

"You said there's more to it than my age." I was doing what I shouldn't - I was asking questions and crossing lines. Without having any knowledge of exactly what else was bothering Edward, I had no doubt that the answer was beyond what he would normally share with me.

The silence in the car was dense, slow. Edward laid back and turned his head to stare out the window; I followed his gaze. The thick condensation on the glass obstructed the view outside, but I doubted he was looking for anything specific. I didn't like that far-away look on his face. Whenever I let him retreat into himself for too long, it took twice as long to get him back from it - back to him being as open and playful as he was with me just moments ago.

Besides, we hadn't finished what we started.

"Hey." I circled my hands at the nape of his neck and pulled him to me in a sitting position. My voice was hoarse with need for him, and I let my fingers, scratching his scalp lightly, convey it. "About those freckles. Did you know that I have them on my chest too?"

He knew what I meant; he still had a lot of counting to do.

He chuckled, his breath warmed my cheek. "It's too dark to see."

"You told me they were delicious," I whispered, leaning back and slightly pushing his head down. His tongue was hot and smooth and skilled. Not that I knew a lot about that, but whenever it was on my neck or in my mouth, touching, sliding, coaxing sounds out of me I never thought I was capable of, I burned to have it all over me.

"Beyond description." He nodded.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because they are yours," he murmured kissing the hollow of my throat.

He raised his head to look at me. I expected a soft smile, a sweet kiss, but was met by a dark intensity. I hoped I read him right. The possibility of his mouth going lower than ever before sent my heart lurching out of my chest. I was ready. I was aching.

He gently pushed my hair away from my face. His hand became a little more rough when he pulled down on my top.

He tapped his finger right above the nipple of my left breast, his eyes still on me. "You have a constellation of them right here," he whispered.

"Oh... How did you...?"

"My infatuation with your freckles made me very observant, my little B. May I?" His hand hovered at the lace of my bra.

As if he had to ask. Ever. I was his. Did he forget?

I swallowed and nodded.

He pushed the lace down, and before I could register it, his mouth was on me, closed around my nipple. I gasped at the strong sensation.

Edward moaned. I looked down, arching into his face. The view of his lips covering my breast was beyond erotic; I felt his tongue flick my nipple and I lost all sense of reality.

xxx

"I don't see you much lately, Bells."

"I've been kind of busy. I'm sorry."

Charlie's tone wasn't accusing, more like wistful. Guilt made me mumble and swipe the cloth over already spotless kitchen table more times than necessary.

My father had a good point. I was, indeed, hard to catch these days. When I wasn't working, I was with Edward, and when I wasn't with Edward (or, to be more exact, when Edward wasn't with me), I longed to be at his house, closer to him. Danger of being around Jasper be damned.

"I know, two jobs. I still think it's a little too much, honey."

If he knew that I worked at Alice's store for free, he'd probably forbid me going there all together, so, it was smart not to mention it - at least for now. He'd find out soon enough, when he realized how much I was spending on gas and how little I had in my bank account at the end of the month.

"I'm fine, Dad, it's all good experience. Although the job at Newtons wears me down more than anything else."

"Hmm."

Charlie knew better than to interfere. I knew better than to complain. Still, deep inside I couldn't wait for the day when I was done working there.

I cringed thinking of the reason. It wasn't that I didn't need the money; I so did. Mike Newton was getting a little too persistent, to my rapidly growing annoyance. At that point all my hope of hooking him up with Jessica was futile. It wasn't happening. He was hung up on the idea of dating someone else, not so subtly hinting that that someone should be me. That wasn't happening either. So the less I spent at the Newton's store, the less I was subjected to his more and more open come-ons. Like I told Edward - avoidance was the flavor of the week, to the dismay of both Mike and his mom who needed an extra hand at the store during summer.

There was more to it, though. It wasn't just that Mike was becoming too much, I also missed my friend. It wasn't Jessica's fault that Mike was a dense fool who couldn't see beyond his own nose. Honestly, after getting to know Mike better I wondered what she saw in him at all.

"I was thinking about taking you fishing on Saturday, kid. What do you say?" Charlie asked.

Fishing wasn't something I would consider a particularly fun way to spend my weekend, but I found myself thinking that some quality time with my father was long overdue. We hadn't done anything together in a while and I missed our quiet interactions. I could read, listen to music, and have a few laughs with Billy and Harry. Charlie's friends were nice, and kind of... solid. I trusted them to let me be while they exchanged jokes about their younger days and talked about all fun they had had together. It was obvious that those stories were recalled to help me learn more about my father and the years we missed together, and I appreciated their effort to help us bridge the gap. In a way, I envied my father. He had built long-lasting, strong relationships and seemed happy. I hoped I could say the same when I was his age.

"Are you going to work through the entire summer?" Charlie asked.

I nodded. "I think so. I really don't mind."

"Well, I guess it's your free time, Bells. You're not running around wasting it all day, so, I have nothing to complain about, right?"

He didn't mention that I also stayed out late a lot after finishing my shifts and he hardly knew where I was. Remembering too well the week of embarrassment brought upon me by enforced curfew earlier this summer, I occasionally volunteered and called Charlie, telling him about my whereabouts. That simple gesture seemed to appease my father immensely even if I used it as my way to prevent unwelcome questions later. So, I guess, we had just the right balance when it came to our communication.

Charlie got up from the table, and stepped to the sink to rinse his plate. "Bells, do you remember my friend Sam? His daughter is a little younger than you. You loved to babysit her."

The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't put it to a face, and I didn't remember his daughter. I shook my head no.

"I'm not surprised. You were five and his daughter Claire was three," Charlie chuckled.

I laughed. "Five? I was some babysitter, I'm sure. I hope you never left me alone with her."

"Of course we didn't, though you tried."

"I bet I did."

My childhood memories were spotty. Some were bright and clear, down to the color of the dress I was wearing on a certain occasion. Then, there were chunks of time that I couldn't recall at all. Maybe it was because I missed my father, and being separated from him at very young age affected me more than I realized. I wasn't going to over-analyze the state of my mind as a child and whether I had repressed memories triggered by my parents' divorce - I didn't even remember my parents together - but I suspected there was some truth in it.

"So, what about your friend Sam?" I asked.

"He moved to Oregon a while ago. But he is coming into Seattle in a few weeks."

"And he'll come visit Forks?"

"Yes, he'll stay with us for a weekend. Hope you don't mind."

It didn't escape my notice that my father was asking for my permission to let his friend stay at his house... Our house.

"It's fine, I guess." I smiled. "He can use the couch in the living room. What is he gonna do in Seattle?" Not that I really needed to know. I asked because I could see that he wanted me to. He wanted me to stay a little longer and talk to him, the subject didn't matter.

"He got some contract job there. So, he is coming to survey the location."

"Survey the location? Sounds serious. What does he do?"

"He is a head of a security company. They hire him all over the country to provide security for shows and whatnot. "

"Seriously?" My interest piqued. "What kind of shows?"

Charlie shrugged. "I didn't get into details."

"Dad, what if it's some famous band coming to Seattle?" I asked, thinking I hadn't really gone to see any concerts since I moved to Forks, which was kind of lame and should be remedied soon.

He chuckled, "No clue, Bells. You can ask him when he comes here."

"Cool, I will!"

Amused by my reaction, Charlie patted my arm, his eyes crinkled in a smile. "Let me know about fishing this weekend, honey. Or if you want, we can do something else."

"No, fishing's fine," I assured him, already having made up my mind about going. "Have to go now. Please don't wait up, I'll probably be late."

Charlie didn't ask another question even though I saw that he wanted to. He was still that kind of dad - he didn't hover. And I appreciate that now more than ever.

xxx

I was back at the house at Maple Grove. This time the ramp by the stairs, the wide hallway, and Rose's demands to wash my hands the minute I came in made complete sense - even Edward's unwillingness to talk about his family. The pieces of the puzzle fell perfectly in place with one answer - Bree.

It was obvious that the house was heavily modified for Bree's needs. The ramp allowed easy access for a wheelchair, and without enough hallway space or with narrow door frames, it would be nearly impossible to move it around. Clean hands didn't seem like an outrageous request once I learned that Bree was prone to infections because she was a lot more fragile than an average six-year-old kid.

She wasn't an average kid, yet, she was just as lively and inquisitive, maybe even more so because her communication abilities were limited. Her nimble fingers were in constant motion, her eyes were expressive and when she wanted something, the clicking of her tongue as a form of speech was almost incessant.

"Hi, Bella." Rose was the one who opened the door.

Since my first visit, I'd already gone back to the house with Alice once more, but this time I arrived alone, and if Rose was surprised to see me, she showed no sign of it.

"Hey, Rose. Is this okay?" I stood at the door, waiting for her permission to come in. We both knew that I would turn and leave until another time if she only told me to. We didn't exactly agree on my conditions for interacting with Bree, but we both knew who was in charge here.

She motioned me to step in.

"I'll..." I gestured to the kitchen.

"You know the drill, Bella. Don't need to ask me." She wasn't giving out the vibe of a warm host, but she seemed welcoming enough for me to breathe with relief.

"I saw your truck rolling in and told Bree. She is waiting for you already, you know."

I nodded, drying my hands on the towel in the kitchen. My heart swelled. I loved that Bree seemed to like me. She paid such rapt attention to the story I read to her the first time we met. She was the best listener I ever had. Better than Edward.

"She just woke up, might be a little groggy." Rose had a flash of worry on her face. "Don't wear her out, she was back on oxygen for a bit last night."

"Sure, Rose. I'll be done at the first sign of her being tired."

"I can't wait for the treatments," I heard her say as I stepped out of the kitchen. I turned to look at her, thinking she was still speaking to me. She wasn't. I guess that was something she just thought out loud.

"Hey, Bree," I said cheerily.

Her smile was wide and genuine, and I grinned back.

"Doing okay today?"

Her response was a slow movement of hands, bunching up the blanket around her, she was inviting me to sit down.

"Bree, show Bella what you've got." Rose walked into the room behind me and pointed at something laying on Bree's lap. Bree's face lit up and she pushed it to me.

"An Ipad. How neat!" I responded. "I've been wanting one of those."

Bree pressed the button, turning on the screen.

"Edward bought it for her."

I blushed and looked down, unable to help my reaction at hearing Edward's name. I had to admit to myself at that point that in coming here to see Bree, I was also hoping that he was home. I wasn't going to let myself feel disappointed if he wasn't; after all, he told me he was busy tonight, and Edward never lied. I hoped it didn't look like I was chasing him or worse - checking up on him. Edward never lied, so I refused to mar our relationship thinking otherwise.

It felt as if I was an open book under the gaze of Rose's perceptive deep-blue eyes. She studied my pink cheeks and nervous fingers picking at the hem of my sleeve. With a strangely soft expression on her face she motioned for me, and together we walked across the room to the window.

"Edward taught Bree how to read," she said in a low voice. "He made her pronounce every sound, even though she hated doing it. He was adamant, we argued. He won."

She glanced at Bree, who had her head down, and was tapping on the IPad, completely emerged in a game.

"A lot of days are a struggle. On top of all her other problems, she has a respiratory condition, which basically is a lung disease that prevents enough oxygen from getting into the blood. She's had pneumonia more times than I want to think about. This equipment here," Rose pointed to various fancy-looking machines and tools around the bed, "is to help her breathe and monitor for signs of distress. I've got whatever I can get my hands on to improve her quality of life."

"Can she walk?" I asked as I hadn't seen Bree out of bed so far.

"She's been very weak for so long, so it's been a while, although we do physical therapy every day to keep her muscle tone in check. It's not... easy."

"I understand." I tried to imagine how it was like for Rose to deal with a sick child every day.

"Everybody does," Rose responded sharply. "It doesn't change anything. We are on our own here."

I wasn't sure what she meant. Were they not getting the help they needed? I knew that _I _wanted to help, in whatever limited way I could. Not only because this was Edward's family, although it was the main motivator initially. I also wanted to help because this sweet little girl didn't deserve to suffer, and it looked like she craved more company. I could at least give her that.

"It's a hard road, Bella. On one hand, modern traditional medicine has a lot to offer, for a cost." Rose scowled. "More and more new treatments become available to manage her condition, but all we are doing is chasing her problems. The more time passes by, the less chance we have to actually make it better."

The painful expression on her face made my heart clench and I reached for Rose's hand. I expected her to push me away, but she didn't.

"But I do have hope, Bella. I can make it better for her. There are still ways."

"Of course there are!" I wanted to sound reassuring; Rose deserved hope. "She is beautiful and strong."

"Yes, she is," Rose murmured, looking at Bree with such immense love it made me miss Renee almost painfully. My stomach quivered, the urge to hug Rose - or to be hugged - was so strong, I felt like crying.

I took a few deep breaths, licking my dry lips, waiting for the overwhelming feeling to pass; I was glad Rose wasn't looking at me at that moment.

The silence that fell between us lasted, and that was when I realized that Rose was fighting similar emotions and struggling not to show it. I squeezed her hand and we smiled at each other in understanding.

Rose cleared her throat. "Has Edward mentioned to you that he is an application developer? A brilliant one."

"He mentioned the former, yes." I smiled. "I believe you about the latter."

"Baby, may I have it for a second?" Rose stepped back to the bed and leaned for the IPad. Bree reluctantly gave it up.

"Look." Rose tapped on something a few times and turned the screen to show me. "This app is an alternative communication program that is essentially a text-to-speech aid. We'll use it when she is too weak or on the respirator. She is still learning, and Edward is there, every step of the way.

"I started looking into a solution like this almost two years ago; all the other alternatives cost tens of thousand of dollars and are rarely covered by insurance. Edward looked around, found a non-profit company that was interested in investing in the idea and wrote this. It's completely free, Bella, and he never took a penny for it. His name is not even in credits, which was his request. It helps hundreds of children already, and it's getting more and more popular every day."

I stood there, astonished, and incredibly proud. Edward, _my _Edward, created something amazing. None of what he told me about himself before was true. He wasn't just _good_, he was...

"Hey, girl, lose the starry eyes," Rose chuckled, pulling me out of my entrancement. "Don't you ever mention that I told you this. He hates, and I mean _hates _talking about it."

"My lips are sealed," I swore. That would be a hard promise to keep, if only for the reason that I couldn't wait to see and kiss him again.

"We still insist on her trying to talk and read out loud when she can. But on a day like today, it's the best solution we have."

Rose handed the IPad back to Bree, who pushed it away, looking at me expectantly.

"All right, all right," Rose laughed, "I'll let you two to get to your own fun. Bella..." Rose looked at me once again with a wordless request to not overdo it. I nodded in understanding.

"Look what I brought to you." I turned to Bree and pulled a book out of my backpack. She clicked her tongue, communicating, seeking around my bag with her hands. "I know, we'll read the book just a little, and then I'll show you what I wrote. I can't wait to share it with you."

She scratched her blanket, and I sat close to her.

"This is 'The Little Prince' by Saint-Exupery. It's one of my favorites. And I've had this copy since I was about your age." I pushed my tattered copy of the book into her hands. She moved her fingers around it, her eyes scanned the title. She gave me a troubled look.

"Oh, I know, I still can't pronounce his name properly. He was French, they all sound so fancy."

We both smiled and I carefully took the book from Bree's hands, opened the first page and began to read, "Once when I was six I saw a magnificent picture in the book..."

We didn't get to read any of my own writing that evening. Bree kept her hand on my knee the whole time, never letting me change positions, and her fingers ran over and over the seam of my jeans while she was listening. We smiled, we frowned, we held hands at sad parts.

I loved every emotion on her face, because even though the girl had weak lungs and muscles and had trouble breathing, she had no trouble _feeling. _And her reactions to the story were so similar to mine, by the end of the second hour I was on the verge of tears just from watching her. I wished I could hear her speak; I wanted her to be able to use her voice so badly.

Exhausted, Bree fell asleep right around the time I was about to lose my voice. She just turned her head away from me, her fingers finally rested, relaxed on my pins-and-needles thigh. Her breathing was still labored, but somewhat even. I promised Rose to not wear her out, yet, I did, but I didn't feel bad about it. To the contrary, it felt good to be here, to listen to my friend sigh and see her stir in her quiet dreams. I hoped I was helping. If I wasn't, Rose wouldn't let me be there even for a minute.

"Hey." I was back to the kitchen. "She fell asleep."

Rose nodded with an absent expression as she methodically cleaned the stove. Scrub, wipe. Scrub, wipe. Scrub, wipe. Until it looked sterile. Scribe, wipe again. Until it looked good enough to step away and sink into a chair with a deep sigh.

Watching her, it occurred to me that although my initial impression of her grace and beauty didn't change and it still intimidated me, I started to see more. Not just the pronounced wrinkles around her eyes and her mouth, the unevenly chopped nails and the redness of her swollen fingers. Not just how she rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder working off the tension - or the weight of the world. I saw what was beneath it. Rose was incredibly devoted to her family, she trusted no one but herself to do a good job, and she was perpetually tired. So, so tired.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Rose shrugged, glancing at the clock on the stove. It was already eight. I had yet to meet her husband Emmett, and Edward was still somewhere out; I didn't want to think where it was. The whole house was quiet, still.

"Alice didn't come in yet?" I asked.

"Probably busy at the store. Why aren't_ you _there, by the way?"

"It's not my shift today. And I'm cutting down my hours at the other place I work."

"Well, thanks for coming today."

Rose, showing appreciation, was an awkward but heart-warming sight. I smiled. "Any time, thank you for letting me."

"Ah, the evening just gotten better."

We both turned to Jasper, who appeared in the kitchen without any warning - neither of us heard him come in.

Rose didn't say a word and left. If I wasn't that proud, I'd probably beg her to not leave me alone with him. Determined not to show my weakness, I forced myself stay leaning casually to the wall instead of making a rush escape.

"Been here long?" Jasper asked, piling some rice and vegetables on the plate and sitting down.

I shrugged, still contemplating my exit strategy. How could I leave without making him think I was afraid or avoiding him?

"Are you hungry?" he asked and proceeded to shovel food into his mouth.

"Not really," I lied. And of course to prove how bad of a liar I was, my stomach growled.

He laughed. "Someone disagrees. Come sit with me, Bella."

"No thanks, I better go." I had finally unglued myself from the wall, grabbing an opportunity to go.

"What kind of a host would I be if I let you leave without offering at least a cup of tea. Tea?" His smile was open and... disarming. "It's just tea, Bella. You would accept it from Rose, wouldn't you?"

I felt my cheeks warm. It was true, I wouldn't have been this rude if it were Rose or Alice offering.

"I... I guess it's okay," I stammered apologetically. I was sitting at the table with a hot black tea in my hand a few minutes later and chastising myself internally for being such chicken shit and agreeing. The tea was too strong and bitter, and now it felt yucky in my mouth.

"Do you prefer coffee?" Jasper asked watching my sour expression. "I don't. It kills my taste buds."

I rolled my eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"You said 'taste buds'. Guys don't talk like that."

"Well, how many guys do you know, Bella?"

"Eat your food, Jasper, chew it well." Edward's icy-cold voice chilled the room. My head snapped up at the sound and I couldn't suppress my smile.

"E, my man, you're home early! Your, uh, meeting is over so soon?"

"As expected." Edward still lingered at the door as if unsure if he wanted to come in.

"Gotcha. How did it go?"

"_As expected_." The dark warning in his eyes was not something to miss.

"Of course, we can discuss it later, brother," Jasper agreed easily. "When your time permits."

He turned to me. "Know that song, Bella?"

"What song?" I was taken aback. With the corner of my eye I saw Edward make a step into the kitchen.

"Ti-i-i-i-me, is on my side, yes it is!" Jasper sang soundly. "Awesome song by the Stones. You should ask E to play it for you."

What was he trying to tell me? I wished I could decipher the meaning of his theatrics. Or was it for Edward?

I looked back and forth between the two men in front me, and the contrast in their postures and entire demeanor was staggering. Jasper was a picture of ease, playfulness. Still smiling, he brought another forkful to his mouth, humming as he started to chew again. Edward was emanating heat and hate.

"Sit down, man. What are you standing there for like a bump on a log?" Jasper offered, making a gesture at the chair between us.

"I don't think so." Edward glanced at me heavily. "Bella, you coming?"

I was. Anywhere with him. And out of here. Quickly standing up, I followed Edward.

_"Now you always say that you want to be free. But you'll come running back. You'll come running back_. _Oh, ti-i-i-ime is on my side, yes it is!" _

Edward clasped my hand, pulling me with him. We sped up, moving down the hall, chased - haunted - by the words of the song coming from the kitchen.

* * *

**A/N: There will be no "fading to black" in this story when it comes to the important events. I just need to give my characters a chance to tell it the way they're most comfortable with. **  
**-**  
**May I ask for your attention for another minute? Thank you. **

**This chapter has a perfect timing, it seems. While what I describe here was planned months ago, I'm glad I have an opportunity to share certain details at precisely this moment. The story of Bree is based (somewhat loosely) on real events. There are so many kids like her who need help due to the health issues and can't get it. ****What especially strikes a cord with me is how much schools are lacking when it comes to equipment and tools for special needs children. In a lot of cases, it's nothing expensive or even fancy. We all can help. ****Project Team Beta**** came up with the "****Back to School Fundraiser****" initiative, to support schools and teachers. Could you please take a moment and check PTB's "****Back to School Fundraiser****" site:**

http:/bit(dot)ly/moclTr **and see if you could contribute? Please accept my deepest appreciation in advance.**

**As always, thank you for reading. **

**Would you let me know what you think about this chapter? Last time was kind of a bummer, maybe you can drop me a word or two this time? Thank you.**

**I'm on Twitter (at) Detochkina.**


	31. Chapter 29 Malevolentia

**A/N: Hi! I hope everyone on the East Coast is okay. Please stay safe!**

**Thanks to my usual crew - beta saluki168, pre-readers philadelphic, Rodeomom_95, and to Maxipoo1024. Kari, I got impatient, sorry, love you, girl. *waves***

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

"_My infatuation with your freckles made me very observant, my little B. May I?" His hand hovered at the lace of my bra._

_As if he had to ask. Ever. I was his. Did he forget?_

_I swallowed and nodded._

_He pushed the lace down, and before I could register it, his mouth was on me, closed around my nipple. I gasped at the strong sensation._

_Edward moaned. I looked down, arching into his face. The view of his lips covering my breast was beyond erotic; I felt his tongue flick my nipple and I lost all sense of reality._

**xxx**

**Chapter 29**

**Malevolentia**

**EPOV**

I couldn't tell the point when this girl became such an amazing kisser. One moment she was not more than trembling lips and fingers, her shyness compensated by a uninhibited eagerness to learn and explore - and _to give_. And then, just like that, she was holding all the power - all her sweetness and freckles - a siren call to every cell of my body to end my self-induced sex-deprivation.

I told her how much I fantasized about being inside her, and regretted saying it that instant, because admitting it out loud meant opening a dialog I wasn't ready to have - or at least I was telling myself that I wasn't.

I knew it was the right thing to do, yet Bella's darkened, wide eyes and her impatient fingers, pushing down the back of my neck to draw me closer to her, were urging me to change my mind. There was nothing wrong with a little game of counting freckles. There was nothing wrong with a little taste of them, either. Especially since I had already suggested how delicious they must be - and of course I was right.

"I fantasize about you, too." Bella's whisper was feverish, hot against my neck.

Those were such challenging words while I had her nipple in my mouth. I grazed my teeth over her flesh, feeling her shudder from the sensation. Addicted to her reaction, I did it again. This time I sucked on it, enjoying Bella writhing and moaning under me.

The rational part of me, no less drunk from the taste of Bella's skin, was trying to reason with my extremely horny side. _How can you allow this to happen? This girl doesn't belong to you._

Oh, but she did. Every movement, every whisper, every breathy "please," were mine. I was the reason she begged for more, and I was this close to giving in. I didn't know why I kept holding out on her anymore.

If only I could figure out how to reconcile the two fears battling inside me: the fear of losing her and the fear of breaking her...

"Tell me," I asked with my mouth still on her, already accepting the fact that tonight we were going to experience a new first together.

There were no clothes taken off that night. When Bella couldn't take anymore of my licking and teasing - when I couldn't take anymore of the constant pain in my pants, I touched her through her soft, damp panties. It didn't take long for my girl to adapt to the unhurried, insistent rhythm of my fingers rubbing her. She kissed my mouth, her tongue slipped inside, sweet like candy. I groaned at the familiar taste I craved so fucking much all the time. She deepened the kiss at the sound. I opened my eyes to find her staring at me; I stared back, not breaking the kiss, and slowed the movement of my fingers. I wanted her to take the lead, to do what she was comfortable with, and she understood.

Moving her hands to rest on my shoulders, she slid down a little, bringing herself in contact with my crotch, and started moving against my fingers while riding me. And I was a fucking teenager all over again needing to get off. Somewhere at the back of my mind I was telling myself to slow down, to make it about Bella, but the moment I tried, she slammed herself against me. Because this girl held all the power. Because there was nothing I could deny her. Next thing I knew she was sinking her teeth into my shoulder, crying out, and I was shaking and coming like there was no tomorrow...

"Pst, Pst. E!" The voice came through the speakerphone, jerking me out of my trance. "I've got a problem here."

"What kind of problem?" I sat upright, immediately forgetting about the more than uncomfortable feeling in my groin. "Are you on the floor?" I muted the phone and turned the engine of the truck on - it vroomed a little louder than I would have liked for this hour - and I drove around the street to the side where I could see the windows of the pink girl's office.

"Yes, I made it in just fine. But, E, are you sure you jammed the lock like you said you would?"

I unmuted the phone. "Fuck, Jasper, I told you to not wait this long."

"Don't call out any names," Jasper hissed back. "Come on, man, you know better than that.

"We're using pre-paid cell phones, you dimwit. They're practically impossible to trace." I promised myself to not lose my cool, which would give Jasper the upper-hand. I took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay, chill. So what do I do now?"

I huffed, irritated. "What did you expect to do? We talked about this. Two weeks, Jasper. Two weeks. The lock has obviously been fixed since I broke it. Take the bobby pins out of your pretty, braided hair and get to work. Pick the damn lock."

"You think you're so fucking funny, E." Jasper snapped at me, and admittedly I liked it. It might be the wrong time and place, but I still welcomed a sense of satisfaction hearing his exasperatation. Good feeling_, _always welcome. Let the fucker squirm a little.

He squirmed for a little longer than it was warranted. I slowly rolled around the corner, parked between the buildings and fixed my eyes on the dark windows of what I thought was the eleventh floor. Pink girl's office was somewhere in the middle of the floor. I counted and re-counted the rows of black windows and waited, but there was no indication of life in any of them with the exception of the already lit couple of windows at the corner.

"By all means, Jasper, take your time," I broke the silence, giving in to my nerves. "It's not like you are trying to break into the IT Security Analyst's office of one the largest banks in the Northwest."

"You should've jammed it better, wisecrack," he replied a moment later. "Give me a break, it's been a while. I'm a little rusty."

"You shouldn't have made us wait for two weeks to come back here, so don't even think about pinning it on me. The flash drive might not even be there anymore, and you know what that would mean, Jasper, right?" I was raising my voice again, the aggravation building up all this time was spilling over. What the fuck kind of game did he think he was playing?

"It's going to be fine, it's there. You said it yourself that it's so small no one would even notice it."

"The girl is not _no one,"_ I sneered. "Don't forget what she does for a living."

He couldn't be that clueless and careless! _Shit!_ I hit the wheel of the truck, letting out my frustration, and it honked in protest. I ducked down at the sudden sound, afraid that someone would want to check the noise. Although who would be checking out a horn in the downtown financial district at barely five o'clock in the morning?

"E, you still there?"

I scanned around the street before answering. Empty - as it was a few seconds before.

"Where else would I be? Did you get in yet?"

"Patience, my brother. It's not that easy of a job in these gloves."

"Oh yeah, latex-free," I remembered. "As you insisted."

"What? I'm allergic," Jasper complained.

"I hope you're not allergic to jail, 'cause if you get pinched, that would be a real problem."

"Shut up, let me concentrate."

A dry rustle indicated the phone being placed on a surface, probably the floor, and then for about a minute I listened to his fumbling and hushed curses while he tried to open the pink girl's office.

"Okay, I'm in," he finally announced.

I stared up. There was not even a speck of light coming out. Was he working in the dark? I wanted to ask but then it felt wrong admitting that I was spying on him. For all he knew I was still waiting for him at the front.

"Well, is it there?" I asked.

"Hang on_. _Tell me again what it looks... shit!"

I heard something crash. Of course, what else could happen considering he didn't turn on the lights? I hoped he at least used the flash light.

"Jasper, did you just drop or break anything? Because if you did, I swear to god..."

"Relax, I didn't._"_

"Don't fuck with me. What did you break?"

"Nothing! It was just a stapler - heavy motherfucker, nearly landed on my toe. It's all good."

"Did anyone hear you?"

"Who would hear me?"

"The night-shift from the technical crew, they might come check up on you if you're too loud."

"Who cares, I'll just tell them I'm cleaning here."

"Which reminds me, don't forget to clear those trash cans on the way out." I took a pleasure in being snide again.

"Fuck off, E. What does this thing look like again?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I showed the device to you before, you should know what it looks like. Stop playing and get to it. I don't want to be here longer than I have to."

"I didn't promise to make it easy for you, brother." He chuckled. "Your every penny has to be hard-earned."

He was making it sound like I cared about the money for myself. I wanted to pick up his insult and throw it back as something no less degrading; bite back, so he knew not to mess with me - especially not now - but what was the point? It would only add fuel to the fire. Jasper could never change, but I could, and for that, I had job to finish.

"Check the back of the docking station," I suggested, surprising myself by my own calm tone. "Just follow the keyboard cord."

Another minute of suspension went by, filled with the sounds of things moved around on the other end of the phone. I stilled, breathing shallow, and trying to ignore the chill crawling up my spine in anticipation of the moment of truth.

I had a bad feeling.

I had a bad feeling about this from the moment Jasper came back empty the first time two weeks ago. He claimed the pink girl was still in the office early next morning when he tried to get in to retrieve the device. He chose to not stick around and wait for her to leave and it kind of made sense. Against my better judgement, I agreed to wait for another day, which turned out to be three.

Just when I started losing my patience and was considering going back myself, Jasper delivered the news that according to his latest intel, the Olympian branch of the bank was being audited. The auditors basically camped out in the office and kept odd hours. The coincidence was too improbable, in my view.

"So what," Jasper shrugged off my skepticism. "Audits happen, just a short delay."

It wasn't good enough for me. He had access to the floor as part of the cleaning crew, for fuck's sake, he could go in any time. He believed he was at high risk of being caught with people always there, and said we should wait to retrieve the device until the auditors were gone. I believed he was bullshitting, but I couldn't prove it. I called the pink girl. She apologized for being busy and confirmed the invasion of auditors at the office. I should have been thankful for a break, but I trusted my gut, and my gut was telling me that something wasn't right.

Sitting in the borrowed truck outside of the pink girl's office building almost two weeks after I visited her last time and installed the flash drive, I was thinking that _of course_ the lock to her office has been changed since I went there last, _of course_ there was a good chance she either found the device or changed some hardware (with my luck her keyboard could break too) and we would be screwed... It smelled disaster all over, but I so didn't want to start from scratch. Rose was getting antsy, the time for the down payment for Bree's treatment was approaching fast and, we had just a little over a month until the money was due. Today's pickup of the device wasn't even the end of our mission.

"Is it there? Did you find it?" I asked Jasper impatiently.

"E, I don't see it."

My heart plummeted.

"Fuck!" I yelled into the roof of the truck. "Look again!"

The next few seconds of my life lasted an eternity.

"Nope, can't find it."

"Are you sure you disconnected the right cord?" _Are you sure you can see anything in the dark? _Part of me was still in denial and refused to give up. "Check the mouse, maybe I connected it to the mouse?"

It was a desperate suggestion. I knew for sure that it was the keyboard I connected the device to, but at that point all I could do was pray that it was me who made a mistake.

"No, E, nothing. There is nothing."

A series of scenarios flew through my mind: Plan B, Plan C. Plan to fuck off and forget the whole thing all together. As if Rose would let me.

"Come back down, Jasper," I sighed into the phone. "Your job is done there. Please make sure to leave everything exactly the way it was."

I disconnected the line and slumped against the back of the seat, closing my eyes. I should have felt anger, or at least fear. Surprisingly, I felt nothing. I just wanted to get out of there. Moving the truck back to the front of the building, I waited for Jasper, my mind absolutely empty. When he came downstairs and hauled himself into the cabin, I fired up the truck and rolled from the curb without saying a word.

There was nothing to talk about. The device was gone, and the implications of that fact started slowly dawning on me. If pink girl had found it and figured out what it was, it would be a tough job to bring her guard down again fast enough for our timeline. I looked at Jasper who was staring straight ahead. The ghost of a smirk played on his face.

"It's a long drive, E," he murmured after a while. "Plenty of time to start figuring out another job."

The anger started bubbling up in me. "Another job? You mean, you're ready to jump into something new without even knowing what happened to the device? Aren't you worried at least a little bit about it? Fuck, Jasper, I don't get you. I don't get you at all. What's in a that head of yours?"

"Of course I'm worried, but there's always a risk that things won't work out. You need to know when to exit before it gets hot. You need to be patient..."

"You talk about patience again. Where's yours all of a sudden?"

"... and smart enough," Jasper continued to preach as if he didn't hear me, "to know when to let it go, regroup, and wait for a new opportunity. This is not a big deal."

"Not a big deal," I repeated, nodding my head in a stupefied motion. "No big deal. You do understand that right at this moment we could be under investigation already?"

I realized that the audit in the pink girl's office could very well be related to finding the device we planted. Another coincidence? I thought not. I started to panic.

"The audit, Jasper, what else do you know about it?"

Jasper glanced at me; he shrugged his shoulder. "I told you what I knew. Why the fuck would we care? They have them routinely."

"Why the fuck would we care?" I tried to keep my voice level; in my effort I gripped the wheel harder, and it groaned under my fingers. "If pink girl found it and reported it, they are probably picking the device apart as we speak and possibly looking for me."

"_Possibly_?" Jasper glanced at me. "Let me ask you, again, how did you purchase it?"

He was right, I was giving in to my panic without a good reason. The lab it was purchased from didn't know the name of the buyer, and I never contacted them directly. "They can't trace it to me directly," I conceded.

"Well then, what are you worried about?" He smiled.

"I'm worried we didn't finish the job, Jasper," I said quietly. "I'm worried about my family. Something you have no concept of."

"Easy there, I care too."

I looked at him in disbelief. We all knew what he cared about, and it wasn't Cullens' well-being.

A thought occurred to me that sort of brightened my mood, if it was at all possible. "Does it mean I'm done with the pink girl?"

Jasper laughed. "You hate it that much?"

"Do you have to ask?" I muttered, not seeing the point of hiding the obvious.

"Didn't you just say you wanted to find out what happened to the device?"

"We spent too much time on it to give it up without making sure, yes. If we haven't been burnt, the cause might not be lost yet." As much as I loathed the idea about continuing seeing the girl, I wasn't sure I could abandon the job without knowing for sure we were at least safe and not under suspicion. "I have to find out."

He flashed a sharp, scrutinized look at me. "Are you sure? It's risky," he said slowly.

Contacting pink girl could be like walking into the grizzly's lair, but I wasn't ready to back down. "I know."

"We shall see then."

I nodded.

The rest of the drive went in silence. Jasper wasn't telling me something, and I was so fucking exhausted I didn't feel like pressing. I could only take so much of his shit.

I dreaded coming home. Of course, just for that reason, the three hour drive went faster than ever, and before I knew it, I was facing Rose.

She was pacing the hallway when we walked in and stopped, her eyes darted between me and Jasper. I shook my head. She gasped, knowing right away what it meant.

"How bad is it? Should I wake everyone up?" She wanted to know if we were on the run.

"Could be bad," I sighed. "Not sure yet. We'll stay put for a while longer." The thought of running and leaving Bella behind made me sick. I didn't have to dig deep inside to confirm the main reason why I wasn't ready to give up. Yes, I was willing to fucking lie, steal and be dragged through every circle of hell as long as at the end I had my family taken care of and Bella in my arms. Call me fucking selfish.

Jasper started laughing. It was a loud, obnoxious, full-body-shaking laugh. Rose and I gaped at him, lost. Rose turned to me, raising her brows in question, but I had no idea what had come over that sick motherfucker.

"Jasper, what's so funny?" she demanded.

"You two are funny, that's what," he replied.

Still snorting, he walked to the coat closet, flung his jacket into it, and kicked off his shoes. "You haven't seen _bad_ yet," he said, turning to us. "Anyway, you can relax for now. Here..." He dipped inside of the closet, digging into a pocket of his jacket and then tossed something in my direction. I flinched at the unexpected motion and didn't catch whatever it was he threw towards me. I heard it drop behind me and bounce with a quick, stuttering sound.

"What the hell, Jasper?" Rose asked looking around her.

"E, your reflexes are shit. You need to work on that." Jasper came over and picked the thing up.

As if in slow motion he extended his hand to me, fist up, and unfolded each finger even slower to reveal nothing less than the flash drive that I had been mourning over for the past several hours. The sight of it, slick and shiny on his palm should have made me rejoice, but I already was seeing red from anger. Jasper had been playing me all this time - pushing my limits - and this time he'd gone too far. "What is this, Jasper?" I asked through my clenched teeth.

"You know what this is, E," he answered smiling. "Your precious device. It was there of course."

"You fucking lied to me?"

"I fucking tested you. And you did well in extreme situation. You'll do."

Just like that time in the car when he tested me by constantly switching the channels, something snapped in my head. It was almost an out of body experience when I reached for the device in his hand. And when he squeezed my fingers, not letting me pick it up, I twisted my wrist to grasp his and finally, finally took the opportunity I had been waiting for what seemed like for eternity, and popped him square in the mouth. He dropped faster than a dead fly.

It took me a lot of restrain to not kick him while he was down. After all, he was already down. At my feet.

Rose chuckled. "Nice, E, you make me proud."

"Thanks," I said simply. I didn't feel triumphant. I felt drained and still defeated. The show was going to go on. I was definitely still stuck with the pink girl and we still needed the money. Except now I had to deal with the ramifications of openly declaring war on Jasper. Dealing with Alice was one of them.

"What was the thing in his hand?" Rose asked as I started to walk away.

I rolled the device between my fingers and waved it. "It's my way out, Rose. This is it." I stopped and looked at her over my shoulder. "Don't you forget your promise."

"I won't."

I was going to hold her to that promise as if my entire life depended on it. Come to think of it - it did.

xxx

Pink girl sure was a busy bee. It didn't help that there was weeks worth of data to go through. The girl loved to type.

I started scrolling through copious amount of words. Code, snide email replies to her colleagues, more code, fixing her resume, chats. The girl sure chatted a lot. Part of me was curious if she ever mentioned me to any of her friends. Did she think of me? Was she getting unhappy and anxious?

Did I really care?

Not unless she suspect anything, and only if she thought of dumping my ass before I was able to get the information I needed. Either way, I had to hurry and find the passcodes.

I hit Ctrl-F to search for the key words. It would have been easier if I knew her log-in credential, but as I had already found out, the security on her laptop was set in such way that she had to type her log-in name every time in order to unlock her computer. I started the guessing game...

"swarowskik" - hit Enter. "Cannot find "swarowskik".

"kswarowski" - hit Enter. "Cannot find..."

"swarowski" - hit Enter... Nothing.

And every single time the search came up empty, it did so with a loud, annoying chime. _Ta-da, you got nothing, sucker_!

I really didn't feel like reading through the entire file of over eighty thousand empty words in order to find the only few I needed, although I probably would end up reading most of it anyway. Right now I needed some gratification for all my efforts. Some tangible proof I wasn't wasting my time for nothing. Then I realized that I was spelling her last name wrong, and the guessing came started all over.

"swarowskykate" - I hit Enter for the umpteenth time, exhaling loudly in exasperation. _Bingo!_ It finally jumped to the highlighted word.

"Edward! What happened with Jasper?" Alice's quiet voice sounding off right next to me made me jump.

"Fuck, Al, can you be any quieter?" I muttered, and quickly minimized the search screen and opened something else. Swiveling my chair, I turned to face her.

"Can you be any more of a dick?" she asked, her chin trembled. Her eyes were red, obviously from crying. "His lip and left side of the face are swollen, he has a chipped tooth, and you're sitting here like nothing happened. How could you, Edward?"

"Chipped tooth? I kind of hoped I'd knock a couple out completely." I pressed the keys to lock the computer and pushed the keyboard away.

Alice flinched, backing away from me slightly. What the fuck? Was she afraid I'd hit her too? I shook my head, no way she could ever think that.

Admittedly, consideration for Alice's feelings were the last thing on my mind when I decked Jasper. Dealing with the aftermath wasn't promising to be fun, but the level of satisfaction I felt after seeing Jasper passed out cold at my feet was like nothing I had felt in a really long time - it was that good. Alice couldn't take it away from me. Not just yet.

"I'm sorry I upset you," I offered anyway.

"Upset?" She stepped closer again, bringing her face to mine. Oh, so, not exactly afraid, were we? This ferocious side of Alice hadn't been coming out often enough, and in a way I was glad to see it was still there.

I smiled involuntarily, which only made her madder. "I want to strangle you, Edward," she hissed. "I want to kick you out of this house and never see you again. You're such an asshole. Why did you hit him? Why can't you act like a human being?" She choked on her insults, her eyes were still dark with anger, but I could tell - another minute and she would start crying. I hated when my sister cried. I hated to be the reason why my sister cried.

"Al, I am not going to try to defend myself. It's between him and me. Strictly. We had a disagreement." There wasn't a lot I could offer in my defense. She had to be ready to face the truth. I had to be ready to see her heart broken again, and I wasn't sure if either of us would ever arrive to that point.

"Disagreement? You call _that_-" she gestured to the open door, obviously meaning downstairs, "-a disagreement? We need to take him to a hospital. What if there is some serious damage to his brain? What if..." She started crying. Well, fuck.

"Alice..." I got up.

"Don't you dare!" She threw her hand up, stopping me. "I hate you for what you did to him."

"Jesus, Al. Stop acting like a little girl. Jasper and I had a fight - in the literal sense. It happens, and I don't regret it." Maybe I was more ready than I thought.

"Of course you don't. You made it clear a long time ago how much you disapprove of him."

"Because he is bad news, Alice!" I raised my voice. "He is a prick who is out to destroy everything we're trying to fix."

"What do you have to fix? Bree? Me?"

"You're not playing fair. That's below the belt, Alice."

"No flies on you, mister. Because you're such a noble person."

"Al, stop. We are family, he is nobody. How can you not see that he is not good for you?"

"How can you not see that I don't have a lot of options?"

I balked. "You think this asshole is the best you could do?"

She looked at me, her big eyes brimming with tears. "I am mental, E. I'm a freak. Who else would want me?"

With my fucking heart breaking _for _her, I pulled her into a tight hug. "What did he do to you? What did these fuckers do to you to make you feel that way?"

"It's not them," she said into my chest, her arms were still at her sides; she didn't hug me back. "It's me. Confused, tired... confused," she repeated.

"Why don't you ever talk to me? What can I do to help?"

She pushed away from me. "How about avoid breaking my boyfriend's jaw for starters." She wiped under her eyes with her fingers. "That would be a nice gesture."

I couldn't help a dry laugh. A broken jaw meant a lot less yammering from that prick; I'd say it was worth it. "I am not going to promise anything, but let's call it a part of our bonding experience."

"Does it mean things are going to start looking up between the two of you?" she asked half jokingly, half hopeful.

"Nah," I answered after a pause. "I'll just need to find another way to get rid of him."

"I hope you are not serious because I don't like that you joke about him this way, and I don't want to lose him. "

"I wish I could tell you that I trust him enough to take care of you. But I don't. I just need to be smarter about showing you what a miserable asshole he is. One day you'll believe me."

"You're being cruel. Why? You talk about him as if he were a stranger."

"He _is_ a stranger, Al. What do you really know about him? Had he ever told you anything about himself?"

She bit her lip, averting her eyes. "I know some things."

"Do you believe what he says? Because if I were you I wouldn't."

"I do, because I love him."

"Well, I hate him, and I can't hide it. I guess it's important for me that you know."

"I'm not stupid, I've known."

"But you can't help it."

"Can you help it with Bella?"

A swift kick in the gut wouldn't feel as painful as the mentioning of Bella in association with Jasper. It seemed unfathomable, unspeakable.

"Don't, Alice. Bella is different."

"But you won't give her up, even though you know, and I quote you, 'you'll ruin her'?"

I had nothing to say. Alice - 1, me - 0. Or more like - another point went to Jasper without him even trying.

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**A/N: The next chapter is already written and I will post it next week. **

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	32. Chapter 30 The Actus Reus

**A/N: As promised, posting this week. Thank you for your support and feedback.**

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**My appreciation goes to my beta and pre-reading team: saluki168, rodeomom_95, philadelphic, MichelleMMarie and maxipoo1024. Thank you, ladies!**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal. The question is will they get away with it?**

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**Chapter 30**

**The Actus Reus**

_**EPOV**_

Rose almost never visited my room. She was always busy with something—Bree, cooking, folding laundry. Researching, reading. Taking care of the fucking medical bills. When she needed me, Alice or Emmett were the messengers.

Imagine my surprise when I found her hanging around the hall and looking in.

"Is something wrong, Rose?" I asked, standing up from my chair.

"Not exactly. We need to discuss what's next with the guys, but I think you need to talk to Jasper first."

"What for?"

"Listen, surprisingly enough, you got a mean punch. He's still pretty distraught, and I have a feeling he'll hold a grudge and try to get you back at the least expected moment," she explained.

"Well then, I'll just have to watch my back, won't I?"

"We all will, I promise you that. But this is such a bad time to pick up a fight. It's distracting and counterproductive. Especially now."

"I know, Rose." I felt my shoulders slump. "If you want me to admit it wasn't the smartest move on my part... Fuck. Okay. It wasn't. I shouldn't have done it."

"I don't blame you, I meant it when I said I was proud of you. I'm glad you helped get his self-centric ass in check."

"Does Emmett know?" I rubbed the back of my neck. Support from Rose meant a lot. It helped me to not feel like a complete douchebag after taking it full on from my upset sister.

"Of course he knows. I took the pleasure rehashing the whole scene when he came out to check on the noise. Blow by blow." Rose laughed.

"There was only one blow," I corrected her, gloating again.

"And look at him now."

"Where is he, by the way?" I asked.

"Alice is tending to his injuries."

"So, he didn't need to go to the hospital?"

"Oh no, although Alice insisted. Our Jasper is too proud to receive help after being clocked. Still, you have to talk to him."

"Fine." I sighed. "I'll go right now. Could you please make sure Alice is not there? She is too emotional about this stuff."

Rose nodded and left.

Jasper sat on the bed, his back propped against the headboard. His head was rolled back. He slowly turned to look at me when I stepped into the room. The sucker smiled.

"Come, E. Sit, my man." He patted the bed. "Feeling good, I reckon?"

I didn't sit down. "Better than you," I grumbled. He showed no signs being upset. None. Thankfully, the signs of my fist smacking his mouth were a lot more visible. "You look like shit."

"Eh." He waved around the bruise on his face. "It's nothing. I wear my battle wounds with pride."

"You're such a bullshitter, Jasper. Do you ever stop?"

He chuckled. "I will when you're done and ready."

"Ready for?"

"For getting down to some serious business with me. When you stop fighting what's inevitable."

"We already had this talk. I will never be your partner."

"Wanna bet on it?"

"Wanna lose?"

"Never."

I nodded, narrowing my eyes at him. He threw down a gauntlet, I picked it up. So, a war it was, indeed.

"We are getting together downstairs," I informed him, walking to the door.

"I'll be there in a minute. I need to make sure your sister is okay. She doesn't like it when I'm upset."

"Well, that's something she needs to learn to live with."

Some day Alice would forgive me—or so I hoped. It was for her own good.

xxx

"Hey." Emmett greeted me by heavily patting my back. "Had a good day, I hear?"

"Not going to complain," I responded in kind, smiling.

"We are at the home stretch, aren't we, E?" His face turning serious.

"We are. One step left. You ready?"

"As can be." Emmett stood behind Rose's chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. She tilted her head to the side, her cheek touching his fingers.

There had been a subtle shift in their relationship lately. A more involved Emmett meant a happier Rose—if any of us could be happy in our situation.

"I found what I was looking for, Em. The passcodes, the login credentials. The best part is she's been testing some code in production, so I know the server names, and the accounts she used to access the system. I need to go over the information with you and make sure it's all we need to get in. If nothing has changed since the data has been dumped to the flash drive, we should be set."

"Don't forget one important step, E. If you fail that step, we are fucked."

Rose's lifted her head looking at her husband's face with a worried expression. Emmett bent down and softly kissed her on the lips. She briefly closed her eyes, accepting his assurance.

"Once we syphon the money, we'll have to jump it a few more times to drop the majority off-shore. Normally every movement of the funds is being tracked in the system, so the tracking log needs to be ticked."

"I already figured that, but touching the log in production could be a trigger for the system shutdown; this is the trickiest part..."

"So, what's your plan?"

"Take a snap shot of the log before we touch the money and replace it with the old version once we're done. Kind of like when Indy switched out the head of a golden idol for a bag of sand," I referred to my favorite Indiana Jones movie, smiling. We watched it a million times together as kids.

"Golden idol, huh?" Emmett murmured. "You remember what happened when Indy did it?" My brother had to warn me, of course.

"Booby traps happened." I nodded. "I did my homework, Em. I've got the tools. I'll clean up the clean-up—badges, access, logs. It'll be like we never existed. And then we'll be done with this." I briefly imagined the possibility of flushing the pink girl's memory as well to remove any recollection of me either. But this was real life, and real consequences.

Emmett was looking at me with an expression close to awe. "Right on, my brother!" He grinned.

It felt good to have my older brother's respect, but not good enough anymore. He was part of the entire package I had to handle with care. I glanced at Rose, who frowned at me. A slight tilt of her head indicated that she understood the double-meaning of my words. I wanted to be done with this hell for good. Was she ready to let me go? Was she ready to let it go herself?

"So, you sure you can take it from there once I'm in?" I asked Emmett. His banking experience was essential to us at that stage of the operation.

"I've used that system before at CalFed bank and know the commands in and out," he assured me.

"Good. I've extracted specific data from the pink girl's laptop so you could look over the access levels." I didn't want any surprises.

"Let's take a look."

"It's all dumped in a text file; the formatting isn't great. So, never mind that."

"That's fine. Let's see it."

"Hey, not without me!"

We all turned to Jasper, who walked down the stairs and joined us at the table.

"Watcha got?" he asked me.

"Enough to finish this already," I answered.

"Then you heard the man. Lets' see it."

We proceeded to talk through the information.

xxx

The Pink girl disappeared. Kind of. Not that she hid from me or didn't talk to me. We talked, and she initiated some of the calls. She said she was busy, and I believed her. The stress of the audit and the pressure associated with it was getting to her. She was worried about the bank's compliance with the _Sarbanes-Oxley Act_ and was almost too implicit while explaining to me the importance for the company to stay within SOX laws. She mentioned dreading seeing the audit report, and was positive she'd have to tighten up some security procedures. It was almost as if she was warning me—or maybe it was just me and my fucking constant paranoia.

I was okay for a while. At least it meant I didn't have to meet with the girl every week, and wasn't so strung up about it all the time. With my somewhat improved mood, the perpetual dread eased its grip on me, and I felt almost normal. Alive.

My mood projected on Bella. It was easy to lose myself in her when I wasn't spending each day, in and out, tortured by worry. The summer was almost over. We tried to spend every free moment together before she began her senior year of high school, knowing we wouldn't be able to see each other as much once she did. We spent the last evening at the waterfront by the abandoned windmill. Armored with blankets and laden with snacks, we sat by the water and talked. Bella watched the sun slowly shifting into the horizon and I watched her.

"Have you ever caught a certain moment in time and knew that you would always remember it?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the darkening sky.

I pulled her to sit between my legs and she did, leaning her back against my chest.

I thought about her question. "I'm not sure."

"It's like I know that this," she explained, drawing her hand around us, "will stay in my mind forever. Like a Polaroid picture."

"Good memory?" I kissed the top of her head. I loved her mind.

"The best." She sighed with contentment.

She was right—it was one of the best evenings we'd had together. When our talking wound down, she let me kiss her and touch her—sweet tongue and soft curves. There was no hurry and it felt natural when my hand found the edge of her panties and I pushed them aside. Her breath hitched and she flattened her back against me with her head rolled to my shoulder. The sight below me was perfect. _She_ was perfect: flushed cheeks, eyes screwed shut, full lips parted. I moved my fingers over her, drawing circles, paying attention to every sound she made, to every subtle shift of her body against mine. Her bliss was mine, so I soaked up her reactions, storing each in its own frame—Polaroid picture, indeed. I wanted to prolong that moment, animate it. Every shutter click of my mind captured the fleeting, transient instant of us together. I watched Bella's face contort with pleasure, listened to her shuttering breath and wanted nothing more than to keep that image of her with me forever.

xxx

It wasn't until we were slowly walking back to Bella's truck parked by Alice's store when it hit me—and completely spoiled the blissful mood I was in.

Not only had I not seen Pink Girl for one reason or another for almost three weeks, but Jasper was also suspiciously quiet about it. It wasn't like him not to nag me about my dates with the girl. At first I'd written it off due to our fight, thinking he finally decided to lay off and let me handle the job as I saw it fit. Then I realized that it was highly unlikely for him. He'd had his nose in my business for months, years, why would he back off this time? Surely not because I nearly unhinged his fucking jaw. And the clock hadn't stopped ticking, although it seemed like time had stilled for a while. The uneasy feeling grew, and for the first time since I started the job, I found myself actively seeking the pink girl's attention.

"I haven't seen you in a while," I murmured into the phone. "When can I see you?"

"I know." She sighed. "Soon."

"How soon? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. I miss you."

I tried not to choke on my response. "I miss you too."

"I want to see you, Will. So much. I wish I could."

"What stops you?" I was thinking feverishly of how close I was to getting my job done and realizing how unprepared I suddenly was. This was it, this could be our moment. Was I really ready?

"I could come see you tonight, or if it's too late and you're tired, we can do it tomorrow. I'll pick you up from work, if you want. If you don't want to go anywhere, we can spend a quiet evening at your place. I can be really quiet, you know?" Did I sound considerate and persuasive enough?

"I know. Sometimes I think I've known you forever." She sighed again.

_Fuck, please don't fall for me._ Wasn't I a monster enough already?

"Let me come and see you," I pushed again, loathing my soft, pleading voice, how sincere it sounded.

"Okay, tomorrow," she conceded.

I let out a quiet breath. One step at a time, I was getting closer. One step at a time, I was losing more and more respect for myself.

"Want me to pick you up?" I asked. "The usual time?"

"Make it seven—I have so much work to do—I feel guilty."

"You can take your laptop with you." It was cruel of me to suggest to a tired of her job girl to take her work home with her, but I had my agenda. With the danger of the passcodes expiring, the sooner I had access to her laptop the better.

"I don't think so, baby, I want to spend time with you."

Then the plan was going to change. No laptop—no time alone. Simple is that.

"Even better," I faked enthusiasm. "You know what, I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?" She perked up.

"It's a surprise. You'll find out tomorrow."

The surprise was predictable. I took her to a fancy restaurant, which neither of us enjoyed. I didn't because it'd never been my scene. The stiff atmosphere and my inability to relax only emphasized how sick it was to play with another person's feelings. Pink girl was a mess, too: clingy one moment, distant the next. Clearly, the three weeks of break didn't work in my favor.

My hope for getting out of this fuckup, for making things right again started to seep away. It seemed the closer I got to completing this job, the closer was the light at the end of the tunnel, the dimmer it turned for me. What did I hope to get at the end of this? All crimes forgotten, all mistakes atoned for by handing Rose enough money for Bree's treatments? Who was I kidding?

With the dinner being a letdown, I was ready to call it a day. I tried to come up with a nice way to excuse myself and leave, and I almost missed the moment when the pink girl started blushing and stuttering something nervously. She was asking me if I wanted to come over to her place on Saturday night.

Shit. _This_ Saturday night?

I wasn't ready.

I had no choice but to be ready.

"Saturday night, sure," I agreed quickly, watching how her eyes lit up.

A second later she frowned.

Of course I noticed. "What is it? Don't you change your mind on me now."

She stared at me with a distant look on her face for a moment, and then shook her head. "No, let's do Saturday."

"I'll see you then." I gave her a slow, promising smile.

She rose in her toes, bringing her face closer to mine. To seal the promise, I held my breath and kissed her on the mouth. Once. I didn't step away when she deepened the kiss.

xxx

I hadn't seen Bella the whole week since she started school, and I almost didn't want to because this job I was doing didn't make me feel like looking her in the eyes. Thankfully, she seemed to be busy enough with her new classes not to question me about it.

Friday night was torture. I thought of Bella all day. I was ready to cancel everything, forget the plans and obligations. The ache for her was unbearable. I called her, but all I got was her voicemail and I came to my senses—enough to numb myself with a little pill from our medicine cabinet and pass out.

Saturday evening came too quickly. I drove to Olympia with Jasper and Emmett. Emmett kept giving me worried glances.

"Em, quit it. I am fucking fine," I told him. "I'll text you when it's ready for you to remote in. It will be over with quickly."

I had to drastically revise my initial plan. Since I refused to seduce and spend the night with the pink girl, I needed another way to occupy her—and there was only one alternative.

Yes, I had stooped that low; I planned to drug the poor girl. It was either fucking her into oblivion and letting her sleep while I hacked into her laptop—there was a lot of dignity in that—or slipping a sedative into her drink. The only difference between that and the date rape drug was that I wasn't going to touch the girl. Gotta feel noble about that, don't I?

Things did not go according to plan from the moment the pink girl opened the door. When she said she was ready before, she really fucking meant it. She was ready, all right, even though it was barely eight o'clock in the evening. The black transparent getup she had going on left no doubt she didn't plan to spend a lot of time actually sleeping tonight.

The ironic part of it all was that I hadn't gotten laid in more than six months, which was a record for me. Considering my vow that my next time would be with Bella, the pink girl's outfit, revealing as it was, did nothing for me. Somehow it didn't make me feel better.

The girl smiled, blushing, her hands twitching. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hey," I responded, making sure to not look below her neck.

"Wanna come in?"

"Sure do." I tugged my lips further into a smile. She blushed deeper.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket. The small packet with crushed pills rustled quietly between my fingers, reminding me why I was here. My heart started to pound. What was I doing? Why? For that moment I forgot all the good reasons, all the noble notions behind my actions. Wasn't there any other way?

I wanted to say fuck it, apologize to the girl and go back downstairs. Tell Emmett it didn't work. Deal with a condescending Jasper, and face Rose's wrath and devastation at home.

But before I knew it, I had been pulled inside of the apartment and the door was closed behind me.

Was that how having the cell door shut on you and separating you from freedom felt like? It did at that moment.

I prayed, although I wasn't a religious man by any means, that she didn't have some sappy, romantic music on or fucking candles lit around the house, because I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to handle that.

Thankfully, there was none of that. The girl shivered walking ahead of me. Luckily for me, I spotted her robe thrown over the arm of the sofa in the living room. I grabbed it and placed it over her shoulders. "You're cold." I smiled when she looked at me in question.

"It's not that." She smiled shyly back.

Dear lord, may I put her to sleep now and skip the whole torturous part of dealing with her awkward advances?

"Would you like something to drink?"

_Fucking yes!_ "A drink would be nice." I couldn't afford to be drunk, but I sure could use something to numb my senses. At least until the girl herself was no longer up and alert.

Was her mother at home? Shit, how could I forget about her mother?

"Are you alone?" I asked, a little louder than warranted.

She shook her head. "We just have to be quiet." She arched her brow at me. "You told me you could be really, really quiet."

"If I have to."

"It could be fun, you know," she whispered, leaning into me as we walked down the hall, and I tried not to shudder. "Make yourself comfortable." She pointed to the bedroom. "I'll be right back."

She tip-toed into the kitchen and I stepped inside of her bedroom.

Nothing had changed here. Same posters on the wall. A corner of the "Kill Bill" one was no longer pinned, and flopped down, closing the top part of the Bride and her orange overall. Orange overall! Was it where the pink girl's fashion style inspirations came from? Was she channeling the lost love or the revengeful side of the Bride? I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out.

The screensaver of a slowly moving ball bouncing off the corners and their changing colors were glowing on the screen of the pink girl's laptop on the desk. The glow was soft and inviting. It felt like the laptop was calling for me, and suddenly I couldn't wait to answer its call—to do what I was best at—_hack, steal, run._

The pink girl walked into the room, her robe fastened tightly around her. Did she change her mind about us? At that point I hoped not.

She placed a glass full of dark liquid—something strong, judging by the smell and the look—in front of me next to the laptop. The bouncing ball mirrored against the edges of the glass, the light reflected in a million sparkles against the smooth surface of the desk. I watched them, transfixed.

"Will?"

I dragged my eyes back to the girl.

"It's been a long day for me. Do you mind if I take a bath?" Her finger circled around the rim of the glass in her hand, creating a keening, eerie sound.

"Errr...Sure," I agreed distractedly, glad when the sound stopped.

What a strange, out of blue request, I thought, considering that she seemed more than ready and not tired just a few minutes ago. What about the tiny slip she had on under that robe? Wouldn't you wear it _after_ you took a bath or a shower, or whatever?

Then it dawned on me that she was hoping for me to join her. _In_ the bath. That wasn't going to happen.

Where are the drinks and the pills? I needed to get them in her _now_.

Okay, there was my plan. Let her get into the bathtub, bring her the drink, have her finish it. I sincerely hoped that she owned a bottle of bubble shit girls liked to add for their relaxation time. The least I saw of her in that bathtub, the better my chances were of not running before I was done there. On another hand, I couldn't leave her asleep in the tub full of water. What was I thinking? I was such a moron! The consequence of _that _action I could never bear on my already guilt-ridden conscience.

"Hey," the girl called, touching my arm. "You're going to be okay here, right? I'll be back soon. Just give me fifteen minutes."

I nodded, and then I realized something. I didn't need to drug her, and I certainly didn't need to sleep with her. I didn't need to do any of the shit I dreaded in order for her to allow me access to her laptop long enough to get into the bank accounts. She was giving me _time_. I could knock and check on her a couple of times, but fifteen minutes was exactly what I needed to complete this job and finally be fucking done.

The moment the girl disappeared into the bathroom and I heard her turning on the water, I was at the laptop, pressing the keys to log in. Except, I needed something else in order to break into the system—I needed her security fob.

I spun around, scanning the room—it had to be in the apartment, most likely in her purse. To my relief I found it hanging on the back of the chair under the computer desk. The fob had to be on her key chain. I knew that because I had seen it there before. I shook the purse at my ear and heard something metal rattle. I smiled—yep, the keys. To the bank accounts. To my freedom. To the new path in my life.

Digging inside it, I roamed around the corners feeling for the keys, and I guess I just missed it. I missed the soft creak of the opening bathroom door. The sudden light coming on inside of the dimly lit bedroom. The absent sound of water, no longer running...

I noticed the presence of the pink girl all too late.

Startled, I tried to drop the purse, but the loop of the strap caught around my wrist. My first instinct was to shake it off, but that would only make my snooping more obvious. I noted with horror how the pink girl, still dressed in her robe, leaned against the door frame, watching me.

I couldn't make a sound while she moved her hand down along her hip. For a second I thought she was going to untie the robe, and in the current situation it probably wouldn't be my worst case scenario. But then, her hand reached up, and she tugged on a chain around her neck, pulling it out.

There was something on that chain, which she held out to me between her thumb and index finger. It was too dark, so I took a step forward to see better and squinted, trying to figure out what was it she was offering to me.

When I recognized the object, my heart walloped violently against my ribs and plummeted to my knees. A sad, tired smile spread across the pink girl's mouth. She shook the chain with a quiet jingle, inviting me to come even closer, and asked, "Is this what you're looking for?"

* * *

**A/N: Ducking, running for cover.**

**The movie referenced in this chapter is "Raiders of the Lost Ark".**

**Have you ever caught someone doing something you wished they didn't? How did you react?**

**I hope you review. Thank you for reading.**


	33. Chapter 31 Infliction

**A/N: I know, I know, but it takes time. Forgive me? Still friends? I am completely failing at replying to reviews this time, but it was either fighting ffnet and losing the battle or rushing the chapter out to you. I'll do better next time!**

**Thank you to my wonderful support system: saluki168 (congrats, girl!), philadelphic, Rodeomom_95 and MichelleMMarie. **  
**  
Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal and fail miserably.**

* * *

_She shook the chain with a quiet jingle, inviting me to come even closer, and asked, "Is this what you're looking for?"_

**Chapter 31**

**Infliction**

_**EPOV**_

There was no mistake: the small numeric display of the security fob shimmered between the fingers of her outstretched hand. The girl was right; it was _exactly _what I was looking for. No idea why I hadn't noticed it on her neck before, but I could swear it hadn't been there when she greeted me at the door. Maybe I didn't see it because I refused to look below her neckline—or because I expected to find it in her purse, not between her tits.

I had no time to dwell on it. Flipping the purse in my hand with a flourish, I placed it back on the chair. Then I took a long sip from the glass she had left on the table for me. The drink went down burning my throat, sucking all the air out of my lungs.

"What is this shit?" I wheezed out, pointing to the glass. I had no desire to acknowledge the fact that the pink girl still had her hand extended in my direction.

"I asked you a question," she insisted.

"I have no idea what you're asking," I responded, still coughing and trying to clear my throat. And being thankful for something to help me stall for time.

"Well, come take a look, lover. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Why would I want your keychain?" I shrugged, ignoring her sarcastic use of an endearment on my behalf. Lovers we were not. "Did you change your mind about taking a bath?" I made another attempt to derail the conversation.

"Stop fucking with me." Her face scrunched up in anger.

I wished I could.

The drink was still in my hand. Ah, screw it! I downed the rest of the glass in one swallow. _Fuuuck, it burns! _I doubled over, slapping my hand over my knee, waiting for the feeling of my insides being scorched by fire to pass.

The girl waited, too. "Are you going to answer?" she asked over my coughing.

"What do you want?"

"Are you going to pretend that you didn't just search through my purse?"

I rasped out a laugh, feeling warmer and calmer, affected by the alcohol. I wasn't a lightweight, but that shit was strong; combined with the fact that I was a nervous wreck and had hardly eaten all day, it was no surprise that it went straight to my head.

"I wanted to have a smoke and didn't want to disturb you." I made the suggestion on a whim.

It was a pretty fucking plausible suggestion, if you ask me. And, it seemed to work. The pink girl lowered her hand and made an unsure step towards me.

Encouraged by the sign, I continued, "I was looking for my lighter. Have you seen it?"

"I don't smoke and you know it. It would never be in my purse."

Maybe I should have faked a headache and asked about Tylenol instead. Didn't every girl carry painkillers for sudden PMS or something? Well, a little too late for that idea.

Feeling like I was following a checklist containing all my tricks, I went ahead with my signature smoldering smile. "Of course not."

The incredulous expression on her face told me exactly what she was thinking. Yeah, playing dumb wasn't going to fly. Grabbing the second, still full glass from the table, I closed the distance between us and offered her the drink. "I wasn't looking in your purse, silly girl. I was looking under it."

"Cut the shit." She crossed her arms over her chest, showing a complete lack of appreciation for my charming technique and the peace-offering.

Deciding to change tactics, I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. If you're looking for an excuse to kick me out, just say it. I'll go."

"What, you're going to deny that you were looking for the key fob?"

"I don't even fucking know what a key fob is, okay?"

"Such a liar," she muttered, shaking her head. "Such a coward. Here—" she unfastened the fob from the chain and thrust it at me, making me step back so I didn't spill the drink, "—take it. Go ahead, use it just like you planned, and I'll watch. I loooove watching."

She was clearly taunting me, but I wasn't born yesterday. Fuck me if I was going to fall for it and admit anything. Even if she saw me searching through her purse, it would take her a century and half to make me confess.

"Babe, come on," I tried again. "It's not funny anymore." Taking her hand clutching the fob by the wrist, I carefully pulled it down. There was not a chance in hell that I was going to touch the key.

"You think I'm being funny?" She chafed at my words. "I just busted you trying to steal from me, Will! Or whatever your name is."

I felt my heart stagger to a near stop. She wasn't kidding; she was, indeed, hot on my heels. She had figured me out.

Pretending might have been useless, but I had too much on the line to just give it all up. "Stealing from you?" I feigned offense. "That's a pretty serious accusation."

"It's not an accusation. It's a fact!"

She was bluffing. Of course she was bluffing.

"It's only a fact when proven."

"Oh, I can prove it. Just don't see the point."

_What the fuck?_

"You don't see the point," I repeated dumbly.

"Exactly. I already destroyed the evidence of you hacking into my computer. You have nothing to worry about."

"I have nothing to worry about because I've done nothing wrong." I bristled.

"Oh, you've definitely _done _s_omething_," she argued, smirking. "You just didn't get anything back in return. There is a difference."

Fucking shit. She was playing with me, pushing me, coaxing a certain reaction out of me, but I wasn't going to let her get any satisfaction from it.

"You're either messing with me or paranoid. I hope it's the former."

"Hope dies last." She chuckled.

I was at the end of my rope. At this point in my life I should have been used to the perpetual sick feeling in my stomach, but as it intensified, I wondered how much longer I could take it.

I was afraid I was going to give in to the panic, which wouldn't recede no matter what I tried, and lose my shit. I contemplated which solution would incriminate me more: running or knocking the girl out. Or I could do both to increase my chances of getting out of here as a free man. Not for long, obviously. A quick escape would solve my immediate problem. It would also create an infinitely bigger one, and not just for myself.

I needed a moment to think, to gather myself. Glancing down, I realized I was still holding the glass, and I stepped back to the table. My hands shook when I placed it next to the laptop.

"Look—," I said after a deep intake of breath, deciding on another attempt to reason with her—and with myself, "—this has gone too far. I was just looking for a lighter because I needed to smoke, okay? I'm sorry if it made you think I was checking your purse. Obviously, you got the wrong idea, but I can understand that you don't trust people, considering your position."

"What position?" She placed a hand on her hip.

Shit, I was making things worse.

"What I mean is your job makes you overly suspicious, I get it," I proceeded to backpedal at a hundred miles an hour.

"That's right; my job is why you're here, isn't it? I've got something you want. You think I wouldn't figure it out?"

I didn't answer.

"Well, I did."

The question about what exactly she knew was about to trip off my tongue when she gestured at me dismissively. "Leave."

"What?"

"I'm not going to call the dogs the minute you go, I promise. I'll give you a head start. How much time do you need to disappear?"

Did she mean it or was she toying with me again? Either way, I was in the deepest shit I'd ever gotten myself into. Sliding my hand into my front pocket, I fumbled for the phone. Right before coming in here this evening, I had composed an alert message to Jasper and Emmett in case of an emergency. My finger glided over the send button; ready to push, I still hesitated. Something wasn't adding up here, even if the girl had figured out my ploy, why was she letting me go?

Her gaze followed my movement; she snorted and turned to leave the room. "I'm giving you fifteen minutes, then, I'm making a call."

She was done with me.

But _I _wasn't done.

She turned to look at me from the door of the bathroom, her figure dark against the glow of the light behind her. "What are you still doing here? Get out."

I didn't move.

"Run!" she exclaimed.

That was exactly what I should've been doing, but I was so sick of running and looking behind my shoulder.

"No."

"You're a fool."

"Maybe. I want to know."

"What do you want to know?"

"If, _hypothetically, _I_ was_ a common thief who was trying to steal your wallet, why are you letting me go?" The punishment for stealing a wallet from a purse was a far cry from breaking into the federal bank, and I wasn't going to willingly admit being guilty of the latter.

"Let's be real, it wasn't my wallet you were after."

I didn't argue. I just waited for the relevant answer.

She shrugged and leaned against the frame of the bathroom door, folding her arms across her chest. Too casual. "Fine, I'm letting you go because you aren't a threat to me"

"What do you mean?"

She issued a dry laugh. "Even if you had my security fob, you wouldn't be successful."

I stared at her. _Just explain already, dammit!_

"Do you really think I'd casually share the details about our system's set up, my job, and my teammates? Do you think I would trust someone I've known for exactly three minutes with internal information that could potentially be used against the company—or, more importantly, against me? You think I didn't know about your little keystroke logger? You think I'd let you use me in that way? Get real, I had you from day one, and it was fun to watch you sweat and stumble."

The girl was condescending, but I couldn't blame her since I wasn't here with the best of intentions, either. The revelations she was bringing to light were far more important and disturbing than the color of her tone.

"You don't know it was me." I kept fighting.

"Bullshit. I have enough data to prove it was you. I just choose not to use it against you."

"Why?" I wanted to shake her and at the same time couldn't move a finger, taken by surprise and having no control over the situation what so ever. "If you think I'm a fucking thief, why don't you give me up? What's in it for you?"

She looked at me as if I was the biggest tool known to mankind, then she smiled; I did not like that smile.

"One small thing," she answered. There was a certain glint in her eyes as she regarded me. She slowly gathered her hair at the back of her neck, lifted it up, and rested her arm on the top of her head.

"I... I don't understand," I lied, feeling cold sweat trickling down my spine.

"Yes, you do." She let her hair fall, spilling messily down her neck. She pushed herself away from the door frame, taking slow steps toward me. "Am I that unattractive to you? Am I that horribly unappealing?"

I was speechless, watching her approach me. Dreading it.

"You know, there was a moment," she said, coming so close I could feel the tense need rolling off her body. "A moment of total weakness on my part when I allowed myself to think that you actually liked me—that when you kissed me you actually meant it."

"You initiated it," I protested. The realization that my denial could hurt me came too late.

I could tell it was hurting her too, in a different way, but she accepted it with a short nod. "It was close enough." She reached her hand to my neck, touching me softly. I felt myself coil inside when her fingers became more demanding, sliding to my chest, pulling on my shirt.

"It could be more," she whispered. "I would have let you."

It was right there, raw and urgent—in her shallow breathing and clutching hands—her neediness and desperation. It made me feel raw inside, too.

"Please, just this once..."

I stiffened, waiting for her to finish.

"I'm not asking for much, you know. I don't even need to know your real name. Give me one night, and I'll give you what you want in return."

_Jesus fuck. No._

"And what exactly would that be?"

"Fifteen minutes of unrestricted, unsupervised access using my computer and a phone call."

It was exactly what I needed. _Fucking perfect._

A perfect fuck up, if I didn't get out of here right now. Yet, I still deliberated. I owed it to my family to at least consider it.

Sensing my hesitation, pink girl untied the belt of her robe. "You know, if you want me to believe you're here just because you like me so much, you gotta try harder."

She was willing to play pretend with me. Why?

Her finger traced along the necklace; somehow she had managed to fasten the key fob back in place without me noticing. "It could soon be yours. What do you say, lover?"

I froze. _What do I say?_

_Lie, _the cold voice inside me commanded.

"I did like you," I pushed the words out, following the command in my head.

"_Did_?" The girl pulled the sides of her bathrobe open. I averted my eyes.

_Lie better, _the voice instructed again.

Looking back at the girl, I forced a smile. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't, believe me."

"I want to. Prove it." Her hands reached to me; she started fumbling with the buckle of my belt.

I let my arms stay at my sides while she worked on the buttons of my jeans. When she was done, she took my hands and placed them on her hips under the robe. She swiveled them, taking another step closer to me. I stepped back; the bed was right behind me, hitting my calves.

"One hour?" she whispered, upping the offer.

I closed my eyes. The girl had no idea what accepting that bargain would mean to me. I knew I wasn't going to take her up on her offer to break into the system. That ship had sailed, and I could never trust her enough to do it in her presence. It wasn't even a question of whether by having sex with her I was being granted a full pardon or only given a head start. It was more than that. There was one thing absolutely clear in my mind: if I slept with pink girl, Bella and I would be done. Yes, walking out of here free, I'd protect my family, but in the process I'd lose any self-respect I still had left. That one act, which didn't mean much to me before meeting Bella, was going to kill the last glimmer of hope I had for myself. A liar and a thief I might be, but I couldn't be dishonest or steal from the only person who had full faith in me. I couldn't be Bella's after spending the night here.

_"Selfish monster! You destroyed my family..."_

_"Do whatever it takes, Edward, but we can't lose that opportunity."_

Rosalie's haunting words, Emmett's hopeless eyes, Bree's sweet face.

_Family comes first._

The enormous weight of my decision pulled me down. Crushed me.

The pink girl was all over me, not letting me think about anything else. Checked out, I let her push me down to the bed and tear my shirt open as she sucked and licked on my chest. I felt my body responding because I was a fucking man. I felt disgusted with myself. Empty.

I let her have at me. It didn't matter anymore.

"Come on," she growled. "You can do better than that."

I opened my eyes, blinking off the disorientation. Better than what? She was getting what she wanted, wasn't she? What else did she need from me?

She stilled, staring back at me and breathing hard. Her knees were trapping me on either sides of my hips, clamping me down to the bed; my jeans were pulled down, sitting at my crotch. Her blond hair was sticking to her face; she pushed it away as she straightened up. The gleam in her eyes, wild just a moment ago, died down. She scowled and shook her head.

Sliding one foot down to the floor, she pressed her hands to my chest, supporting herself against me while shifting her body to get off me.

"What..." I rasped, unable to form the rest of the question. "Wait... " Pathetically, I grabbed her wrists, although I had no idea what I wanted her to wait for.

She flicked her eyes to me. "Let go."

Astonished, I unclenched my fingers, and she pulled herself off the bed.

"Please leave," she said, not looking at me. Her voice held no emotion.

"Why?"

"I changed my mind," she stated simply and wrapped her robe tight around herself. "It's getting late, I have work tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Sunday, but I wasn't going to point that out. I just nodded.

I buttoned myself the best I could while she stood at the table, waiting for me to finish. What did all this mean? Was I free to go or would the authorities be waiting for me by the time I made it out of the building? I couldn't ask and it burned me because it wasn't just about me and my own safety.

"I'll be going then..." I said after clearing my throat, glancing at her. My life was in her hands.

"Okay." She nodded. "If I find your lighter... " She trailed off.

Hope flickered in my chest. I stopped and looked at the girl. Really looked at her: dejected, hurt, and very, very young. _Kate_. Her name was Kate, and she meant me no harm even though I had used and humiliated her.

"If you find my lighter, throw it away," I suggested, immense relief flooding my body. "I was gonna quit anyway. Nasty habit."

"Good luck with that—"

"Will," I reminded her.

"Yes, good luck with that, Will." She managed a stiffed smile. "Go... market something"

"Nicotine patches?"

"And vegan beer."

We both snorted.

"Thank you." She knew what I was thanking her for.

She flicked her wrist at me, releasing me, and turned to the window.

xxx

I didn't take the elevator. Needing a moment to myself, I came one flight down and sat on the stairs for the longest time. What was my plan B? Sell myself into slavery? Hadn't I done that already?

The guys were supposed to be downstairs, prepared to wait for me all night if needed. So, technically, I could sit there on the cold, cement stairs, gathering my balls to face them for as long as I needed. That was a new form of pathetic even for me because there was no plan B, and I couldn't solve my problems or make any decisions on my own. I needed my family for that. And yes, fuck me backwards, I needed Jasper, too.

I trudged down the stairs and outside where I was greeted by the typical humid chill of a late August evening. The truck wasn't at the entrance, and I headed down the street looking for it. The ghetto feeling of the neighborhood was depressing. Strangely, the night was devoid of the usual sounds of a basketball game by the school as I passed it by. It was as if everyone stopped and listened, or watched my walk-of-shame from behind their curtains, pointing at me, "There goes loser!"

That I was.

After two blocks of shuffling my feet forward with no sign of the truck, I dialed the number.

"E?" Emmett answered right away.

"Em, I'm out. Pick me up."

"So soon? Did something go wrong?"

"Yes, it did."

"Fuck. Are you safe?"

"I am for now."

"All right." He exhaled. "Where are you?" he asked while Jasper was mumbling something in the background. "Jaz, shut up. There's a problem."

"I'm two blocks down, at the corner of Capitol and 14th. How far away are you?"

"Two minutes. E, are you okay?" Emmett wanted to know if _we _were okay.

"I don't think so. No. I have to talk to Jasper first."

He groaned and swore. "Do you want me to put him on the phone while I drive?" he asked.

"No, it's okay, I want to do it in person."

"All right. We'll be there in a few."

Emmett picked up on the fact that I didn't act frantic and didn't need to speak with Jasper right away. Yes, I'd been burned, but the whole situation was so bizarre that I wasn't sure what to think of it. One thing was for sure, I had walked away without the money, and in the best case scenario Rose would let me live, most likely without a dick. Not that I was showing any signs of having one lately anyway.

I kicked dirt under my feet until the truck stopped in front of me. There were no greetings, no patting on the back as I climbed inside.

"Where to, E?" Emmett asked, steering away from the curb.

"Home."

We drove for a while.

"Gonna tell us what happened?" Jasper broke the silence.

"She knew everything."

Emmett choked on his gum. "What the fuck?"

We both looked at Jasper.

"Don't look at me!" He raised his hands palms up. "I didn't tell her jack squat. She doesn't know me."

"Wanna tell me how she knew about my hacking into her laptop?"

"So the girl is smarter than we all thought. How is that my fault?"

"How did you find the girl? Why did you choose her?" I pressed. The feeling of being set up only intensified. Motherfucker knew something for sure.

"I had a tip from the same guy who told me about the money."

"Do you trust the guy? What if he and the girl are in it together?" I asked again, although it was too late for that. I should have asked more questions way earlier.

"I don't trust anyone. That's why I have the means to shut people up when I have to." Jasper smirked.

"Somehow she knew, Jasper. _Someone_ snitched."

"Maybe she caught you because you suck at hacking. Or maybe you weren't careful and slipped up," Jasper suggested. "How do I know?"

While there was always a possibility, I didn't believe that was the case. She said she was on me from the moment I planted the keystroke logger, which meant she knew to look for it.

"Have you ever tried to contact her at any point? Have you ever threatened her directly?"

"No. And there was no need. At least I didn't think there was. My only contact was that other guy."

"How did you meet that other guy, again?" Emmett asked; he was catching on, picking up on my suspicion.

"Must I tell you my every secret?" Jasper smiled.

"Not the time for joking, asshole." I shoved his shoulder. "Cards on the table!"

"Easy, cowboy, I'm not the pink girl, can't be fucked over. Oh, wait, she wasn't!" Jasper guffawed.

The confined space of the cab, Jasper's obnoxious laugh and unwelcome proximity were threatening my sanity. I was about to bust his head again, when Emmett stepped in.

"Calm down, both of you. Stop this crap right fucking now!" he demanded. "E, tell us exactly what happened. Well, before that... Is there any chance the girl could call the feds?"

"I don't know. She knows who I am. Not by name, but she knows I'm a fake and why I was trying to get into her pants. She pretty much told me so."

"Sounds like we are thoroughly fucked." Emmett rubbed his neck. "I need to call Rose."

"Wait!" My heart squeezed at the thought of leaving just like that. The ache was so strong, I had to grind my teeth to stop myself from groaning, which only brought more pain—this time in my jaw. Jasper, meanwhile, sat next to me completely unnerved.

I unclenched my teeth. "Jasper, will she rat us out?"

He opened his mouth, then paused. It was a dramatic and fucking infuriatingly long pause. I could count the number of taps of Emmett's impatient fingers on the wheel while we were waiting for him to respond.

"Nah. But I still can't believe you failed to seal the deal, brother..."

I didn't answer.

"Edward, what happened in there?" Emmett asked.

"She was going to let me..." I looked for words, wishing I didn't have to rehash that part of the story. "We were.. about to... to do it." What was I, twelve? Stammering and stuttering, not able to say "fuck" out loud.

"What, E, couldn't get it up?" Jasper laughed.

"Fuck you! She changed her mind. She didn't want me."

Emmett whistled in surprise. "She refused you? That's a first."

"What's with the preconceived notion that I'm some sort of Gigolo?" I asked. "Being single doesn't mean constantly fucking around or taking advantage of unsuspecting women."

"See, E, that's your biggest mistake. You messed with the girl's head while all you needed to do from the start was get in, mount her, get the job done and get out. But no, you had to take your time and let the girl delude herself."

"It couldn't be a one-night stand job, you moron," I hissed. "I needed to know what I was dealing with. Besides, tell me again why you are so sure she won't talk?"

"She's already received an envelope with a few interesting pictures in it. Everything's been spelled out for her. She talks and the pictures are going to turn up on every social media network she's on. There will be no escape from this. She'll lose her highly paid job and health insurance for her sick mother. If those pictures got out, she'd be lucky to get a job at Wal-Mart. She is a smart girl, believe me, she won't talk."

I swallowed the thick, acid taste of bile rising in my throat. "You know who's sick? You."

"What, you prefer she _did_ go to the feds? You want your brother, Rose, you, to end up in the slammer? How would you like to see your wife in jail, my man?" Jasper addressed Emmett.

"Jasper, you are not going to turn us against each other, I'm not fucking stupid," he responded tiredly.

"When?" I asked, biting the pad of my thumb.

"When, what?" Jasper responded, knowing I was talking to him.

"When did she receive the envelope?"

I sat on the stairs for quite a bit, and no one walked past me. I didn't hear the elevator. "I was outside of her apartment for a while. How did the envelope get to her?"

"One quick text to her took care of it all. The envelope has been in her apartment all along. She would have gotten it regardless of how this job turned out. You said you'd cleaned it up in the system. I had my own cleaning up to do with the girl. The guy will be taken care of too, by the way."

Emmett and I exchanged a glance.

"What, you thought I was playing?" Jasper laughed again. The guy laughed way too much, considering the situation. "Unlike you, I knew _exactly_what I was doing. Want to reconsider my offer, E?"

"Never," I said through my teeth, but this time I wasn't so sure.

"I have to tell Rose." Em flipped the phone open.

The ache behind my ribs spread into my stomach.

I still wanted him to wait; to give Rose a few more blissful minutes of not knowing. Couldn't we tell her when we came home? It was one of those moments, just like the night of Bree's accident. While the paramedics worked on her lifeless body, trying to save her, I couldn't find it in me to dial Emmett's number to tell him about the accident. It was a warm June evening. He had taken Rose out for a surprise anniversary dinner – it was the first time they had gone out since they had Bree—and I had offered to babysit. They left all dressed up and laughing, and with one call I was not only going to ruin their evening, I was going to possibly ruin their lives, as well as mine. Yes, even at that tragic moment, I was still thinking about myself and how losing Bree might affect _me._

Nothing had fucking changed since then. With a simple phone call Emmett was going to tell his wife how I fucked up yet again. How she'd have to shift her life, be forced to flee and leave behind everything she had gained.

Because of me all we did was struggle. Never allowed to settle, we kept drifting in an unknown direction, without long-term plans or a certain future.

Our family was like a plane cruising at a barely acceptable altitude after losing an engine, burning the fuel into empty air until nothing was left to go on. We would get to that point soon. My family stayed adrift, fueled by money and hope. Without money we had no hope, without hope we had nothing.

Emmett listened to the phone ringing for a while. I heard Rose's voice come up offering to leave a message. "Huh. Where would she be at this hour?"

His fingers went back to tapping on the wheel. "Do you think..." He turned to me.

"She would have called you immediately if something was wrong with Bree," I assured him, knowing the exact direction of his thoughts.

"She always picks up, E." He started dialing the number again.

"Em, Alice would have called if something was wrong and Rose couldn't." Our communication between all members of the family had been thoroughly discussed and perfected. We knew who to call and in which order in case of a problem. We would have already heard if something was out of ordinary.

Emmett listened to the voice-mail one more time. "Call me, baby," he murmured into the speaker, hung up and let out a string of profanities under his breath.

"Just so you know..." Jasper started, seeing that we had both quieted down and simply sat staring at the road ahead.

Emmett grimaced. "I don't want to hear another pearl of wisdom out of you."

Jasper shrugged. "Your loss. I can wait."

"We know, because you're a patient man," Emmett responded. "From now on, Jasper, whatever we discuss must always include all four of us. There will no longer be brainstorming sessions without Rose, me or Edward in the room. If one of us is missing, there are will be no decisions made. Is that understood?" He took his eyes off the road and leveled a heavy look at Jasper.

"I thought that was always the plan," Jasper said.

"Yet, you've been making your own decisions and calling the shots without telling either of us," Emmett replied.

"Well, someone has to take care of business, since I obviously can't trust you to get things done," Jasper argued.

"If you don't trust us, get the fuck out. No one is holding you here."

I suppressed the urge to clap my brother's back in support of his offer. If it were up to me Jasper would be out of the truck, walking on his own by now. It wouldn't solve anything though. Antagonizing a person who had a strong potential to not only make our lives hell but to also stab us in the back wasn't going to help us to get rid of him, so I kept my mouth shut.

xxx

Rose opened the door and pressed her index finger to her mouth. The reminder was unnecessary, I knew that it was late and Bree was asleep.

A moment later I found out that Bree's uninterrupted sleep wasn't what Rose was worried about.

The answer came in the form of blushing Bella, glancing between me and the floor before timidly stepping into the hallway from the kitchen.

I cursed under my breath. Why was she here this late? Why didn't she tell me she was coming?

The images of another girl's hands groping me, working the buckle of my belt and the buttons of my jeans, flashed before my eyes. Maybe if I took a shower, I could be rid of the feeling of being covered in filth. Too bad there was no soap designed to scrub off self-loathing and wash away my shame.

Grinning Alice came out following Bella, hugging her by her shoulders.

"Surprise!" She beamed. "Bella's having a sleepover tonight."

"We're not eight, Alice," Bella said softly, bringing her eyes down to the floor again to avoid my glare.

"Whatever. It's the weekend, the boys are back and we can..."

"No, we really can't," I interrupted giddy Alice. She was giggling, glowing with excitement, and I was completely unprepared to deal with that shit tonight. "You really should discuss these things with the rest of us before making overnight plans."

Lashing out at Alice felt good. I allowed myself, for once, to show her how irresponsible she was. How could she bring Bella here without telling me?

"I don't need your permission." Alice didn't back off. "She is _my _guest!"

"She doesn't belong here," I snapped back. "Bella, go home."

Of course I didn't mean it that way. If it were in my power, Bella would never leave my arms, but today was a horrible, fucked up day, and it wasn't over. I still had to weather the hurricane named "Rose", and I still didn't know if we had escaped the consequences with Kate. How could I even begin to scratch the surface of almost cheating on Bella if I didn't have a chance to process it? I couldn't face her until I did.

My brief glance at her registered her wide eyes and lower lip tightly locked between her teeth. She was unnaturally pale.

"Edward," Alice gasped.

"It's okay." Bella turned to her quickly. "I better be going."

Her voice was small, but it didn't shake. _My proud little girl. _She slid along the wall and disappeared in the kitchen.

My family was standing in the hallway, looking at me. No one interfered or took sides. They all understood. All, except Alice.

"What's wrong with you?" Alice hissed, pushing me in the chest.

"She was looking forward seeing you tonight. She had something exciting to tell you... Why are you so cruel, Edward?"

Jasper, ever the savior of the day, stepped to her side. "Sh-sh, Ali, sh-sh, baby girl. We had a hard day... Didn't we, Edward?"

'F-fu…" I had a specific choice of words ready to tumble out, but Bella was back, this time with her bag over her shoulder, and I snapped my mouth shut.

"I'm sorry, again, Rose."

Bella was apologizing, while I said nothing to stop her. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth I'd make matters worse. She couldn't be here tonight and asking her to stay wasn't an option, but seeing the hurt on her face – the precious face I had missed so much the whole week—I wanted to fucking beg.

Rose rocked on her heels and nodded in Bella's direction. "Not your fault, kid. Drive safe."

Alice was sniffling into Jasper's shoulder; Emmett reached for Rose's hand. No one was looking at me when Bella slipped through the door and it clicked quietly behind her.

"We are such assholes," Rose uttered, not addressing anyone in particular.

No clarification was needed.

"Edward, do you know what time it is?" she asked me pointedly.

Yes, I knew what time it was—way too late for Bella to go anywhere alone.

"I didn't get the money, Rose." I dropped the news.

"We are okay, though," Emmett interjected.

She drew a quick breath, flinching away from his touch. "Edward, get your daft ass out of here, now," she commanded. "We'll talk when you get back."

Maybe it wasn't a bad idea to let her digest the news first. I certainly wasn't going to ask twice. The door rattled as I slammed it behind me and ran to the car port. After the way I had treated Bella tonight, the least I could do was make sure she arrived home safely.

* * *

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	34. Chapter 32 Ataxia

**A/N: It's been awhile. Hi. I hope there are still a few of you out there who are reading.**  
**This chapter might seem transitional, but it's not.**

**Thank you to my wonderful crew: saluki168, rodeomom_95 and philadelphic. Kari, thank you for your support!**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal.**

* * *

**Chapter 32**

**Ataxia**

_**BPOV**_

"Bella, kid, how did you grow up so fast?" Sam turned to me after a heavy back-patting greeting with my father. He was taller and broader than Charlie, with a short buzz of black hair and dark skin. His olive-black eyes swept over me, as he measured me up and down before he smiled. The smile reached his eyes, and I noted the faint white circles around them—tan lines from the sunglasses currently perched on his head. Renee and I constantly made fun of Phil who had a permanent case of it and a "farmer's tan" on his left arm.

"I can't really pin-point the date or time, sir." I smiled broadly, accepting his warm, firm hand-shake.

An old memory flicked in my mind: the almost still, glistening waters of La Push beach, a little girl in bright pink ruffled bottoms playing next to me. That little girl loved her cakes made out of sand. Every so often I had to pull her hand out of her mouth, reminding her that the cakes weren't real. She thought otherwise.

I tried to stretch the perimeter of my memory, to see if I could remember Sam and Charlie's faces at that time. They were probably somewhere around the beach—at least Charlie should have been—and I kept coming up with nothing. All I knew was that as long as I could remember my father wore a mustache, but that could be from my seeing the old pictures of him, and not from the actual memories. For some strange reason, the fact that I had to dig for an old family album to know for certain upset me. Probably because I suspected there was none except maybe for some random pictures stuffed somewhere in a shoe box. Charlie wasn't the scrap-booking type, that was for sure. I still made a note to ask him.

Sam pulled me back into reality. "Bella, your father tells me you've had a pretty busy summer, working two jobs. Good for you."

I nodded, hoping he wasn't too invasive in his curiosity. By any means I wanted to avoid questions about why I busted my chops all summer and yet my bank account wasn't showing much for it.

"It's been a lot of fun."

Sam laughed. "I'm sure it has. Who'd want to travel and date guys instead?"

Charlie grunted and darted a guilty look in my direction. "I've told her many times to take it easy," he replied. "She is way too responsible for a teenager."

"Tell it to my Claire, Charlie," Sam said with a sigh. "That girl has nothing but boys on her mind. Or maybe Bella can?" he asked, turning to me again.

Extremely fine prospect, considering that I wasn't far off from Claire in that respect. Fathers just never had a clue.

"Uh, Dad tells me you are some sort of a security pro," I deflected, making a face that should have indicated my utmost interest in the subject. Didn't men love talking about their jobs? Well, some didn't. I sighed inwardly, willing my heart to stop fluttering at the thought of Edward, who had been distant and reticent all week, citing job-related issues.

It had been five days since we last saw each other, and it had been torture. I kept myself busy, trying to fall back into the new school year routine, and it wasn't working. I went to bed and woke up every morning physically aching for him. I was going through withdrawals after having several amazing weeks together at the end of the summer and seeing him almost every day. All that time he couldn't keep his hands off of me, and, oh, what those hands did to me.

Layer by layer, his protective shield was peeling off, and I continued to count the days until I turned eighteen. It wasn't just about us finally having sex, although the waiting had considerably wore us both down—having to end the constant worry about the legality of our relationship was more important to me. I didn't want to think too far ahead—with Edward it was virtually impossible—but I hoped to patch things up with Jessica, finally get Mike off my back and maybe, just maybe, introduce Edward to my father. Was I setting my expectations too high?

Something was telling me I was.

"A pro, huh?" Smiling, Sam glanced at Charlie, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Not my fault you decided to become a big shot," he muttered.

"What's the matter, Chief Swan, didn't you tell me how happy you are to be a big fish in a small pond?"

"Damn right I did. I'll retire here, and mark my words, you'll come back here someday too."

"I am not ruling that idea out."

"There you go. All roads lead back to Forks."

"Did you mean Rome?" Sam quipped.

"No, I mean you being stuck here with me in our old age," my dad fired back.

"Okay, you do realize that neither of you make sense anymore?" I interrupted two grown men who were arguing like a married couple. "I thought I asked a question somewhere in there."

Sam was an attractive man, I decided, when he gave me a dimpled smile and winked. "Right. Well, Bella, let me answer your question then. I own a security company and travel a lot because of my job. This time my job is in Seattle. And this," he pointed to my father, "is why I decided to take a detour, even though he is annoying as hell."

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but Charlie jumped in first.

"Wait until Harry and Billy get here, we'll talk then. They'll be here soon, by the way"

Sam laughed. "Great! Want to go Marty's to play some pool tonight?"

"Marty's closed two years ago."

"Hmmm." Sam scrubbed his jaw. "What about that bowling place?"

"Closed."

"Forks isn't exactly hopping with entertainment lately, is it?"

_Has it ever?_

"There is the diner," my father suggested defensively_._

Sam and I rolled our eyes. Sure, a diner qualified as entertainment in Forks.

"Why don't you guys stay here?" I offered, feeling bad for my father. "I can cook."

Might as well, since I had no plans to go out and I had no one to go out with. Edward had some sort of a deadline to meet at his job, and since I couldn't exactly be described as a socialite, I was bound to stay home.

"Don't you have anywhere to be tonight?" Charlie asked.

That was a first. I arched my brow at him, which sent him muttering. "I'm afraid you're going to be bored with a bunch of old farts here."

"As if I haven't spent entire weekends with your old-fart friends while fishing. Have I ever complained?"

"Good point."

So, I stayed. Cooked lasagna—my dad's favorite dish—and served beer. What a gloriously entertaining evening.

By ten o'clock, the four men in our living room were sufficiently loaded, loud and swapping salacious stories of their youth.

I learned how my father met my mother after stopping her for expired tags. How he immediately fell for her, courted her, and proposed just a few months later. She turned him down the first time, but he was persistent. To win her heart he decided to take her all the way to see the Seattle opera. While Renee swooned over some famous Russian singer, Charlie successfully fell asleep during his performance. There was some snoring involved, and Renee never let him live it down.

"Cut it out," Charlie muttered for probably the fifteenth time this evening. "She couldn't help what she loved."

"Neither could you, obviously," said Billy, who had been quietly drunk-hiccupping for the past hour. "She was a fool to let you go."

I stopped breathing and listened.

"She was too young." Charlie cleared his throat. "We had no clue."

"It was good times, Charlie!" Harry boomed, patting him on the shoulder. "And you both moved on."

_Harry, dear friend, I wouldn't bet on that just yet._

"Speaking of opera," Charlie reached and bumped his fist into Sam's arm, "tell them, big shot, what you're here for."

Sam waved him off. "No one cares."

Wait. Didn't Charlie tell me not so long ago that Sam was going to be a bodyguard at some big show or something?

"I care," I said. Twisting the cap off, I handed Sam another beer.

He accepted the beer and tipped it as a thank you. "I've been hired by the Seattle Opera House," he said after taking a sip.

The men started laughing like teenagers.

"What, Montserrat Caballe got sick and they couldn't find a replacement?" Harry guffawed.

"Are you playing Romeo?" Billy echoed. He shook so hard with laughter, he spilled beer on himself.

"Sock it, boys. Let Romeo here talk," Charlie said with a serious face. "Or sing."

"Don't pay attention to these drunks," I suggested, leaning forward to him.

"I've been trying all evening." Sam chuckled.

"You were saying the Opera House hired you," I reminded, raising my voice over more laughs.

Not that I was too disappointed, but I kind of expected him to tell me he was doing the security for a famous rock star, at least.

He hummed into his bottle. "The Chicago Symphony Orchestra, to be precise." His speech was slightly slurred. The man had polished off two six-packs on his own this evening; I was surprised he was still upright.

"Why do they need you?" I decided that with rock stars in it or not, the world Sam was privy to was still fascinating.

"Come on, S-Sam, s-spill s-some top secrets!" Billy's speech was jumbled even more than Sam's.

"It's actually been advertised," Sam addressed me. "The first violinist is going to play on a Stradivarius violin. That's why they hired my company. We are responsible for the safety of the violin during transportation and performances."

"Stradivarius?" I gasped. "For real?"

"I hope it's real. They're paying me way too much if it's fake."

I perked up; an idea flashed in my mind. "Sam." I watched his movements slowed down by alcohol and prayed that he remembered this conversation tomorrow because I was sure I could convince him of whatever I wanted tonight. All I had to do was play nice and bat my lashes. "I happen to love classical music."

"I wish my Claire was more like you."

"She will be, give it time," I promised like I knew.

"You think so?"

"I'm positive. Give her a chance to grow up a little more."

"How old are you exactly, Bella?" Sam tried to gather a playful expression on his face; instead all he managed was some slow-mo blinking and a single eyebrow wiggle.

"Old enough to appreciate art and three-hundred-year old instruments. Do you think I could see it?"

Sam's unfocused eyes zeroed in on my face. "See what?"

"Is there any way I could see the Stradivari violin?"

Sam turned to Charlie. "Does she understand what she is asking, Charlie?"

"I believe she does." Charlie looked nothing but proud.

"My first inclination is to say no, Bella, but let me think about it."

My heart flip-flopped in my chest. "Please do. This is amazing. I would be forever grateful."

"It hasn't arrived yet, and I need to survey the place and conditions first. Give me a day or two, I might figure something out. And if that doesn't work out, I have something else coming up here in a few months."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"There will be an art exhibition at Suzzallo library. Unique books, Faberge eggs, a few other things."

"Oh wow! That sounds awesome!"

"They are going to have private tours first. I can arrange that for you if you want."

"Absolutely! Thank you!"

"At least one of us is excited," he muttered. "This exhibition job is going to be tough."

"Why's that?"

"The Seattle officials decided to have a show and make major library renovations at the same time. This is a case were one hand doesn't know what the other is doing. They can't cancel the exhibition. They booked it over a year ago and expect a lot of visitors, which means profit. And there is no way they will be able to complete the renovations on time. We will have to work around it somehow. We'll have our work cut out for us."

Nodding, I listened only half-heartedly, thinking that if I was able to convince Sam about the violin, I just might have the perfect gift for Edward.

It was well after midnight when I went up to my bedroom. I took a quick shower, put on my sleeping attire and flopped myself on the bed.

For a while I listened to the loud guffaws from the downstairs and envied how close these men managed to stay over the years. They acted as if they saw Sam just yesterday.

I reached out for my bag on the floor and pulled my phone out. There was one voicemail waiting for me. I pushed the button and listened. It was Edward.

_**"**__Bella." _I heard him inhale and exhale._ "I wanted to hear your voice tonight. It's been a rough week, and I've missed you." _He sighed again._ "I miss your face, baby. I miss touching you." _ His voice became low and rough when he spoke again. I held my breath. _"Do you know how much I want to touch you right now? Touch you until..." _I gasped and sat up._ "But I can't, and I don't know when..." _He mumbled something I didn't understand. "_I will talk to you soon, sweetheart. Have a good night. Bye."_

I immediately called him back, but it went straight to voicemail. I decided to text him instead. Maybe if he saw it, he'd call me again.

_**I miss you, too. Will I see you this weekend? - B**_

I pushed send and stared at the phone for a long time, willing for it to come to life. It never did. At some point the loud, rowdy sounds downstairs faded away, and I finally drifted to sleep.

xxx

I woke up to an empty, quiet house the next morning. The first thing I did was check my phone. No messages, no missed calls.

The kitchen and the living room were spotless, all signs of last night's party gone. At least there was that.

The idea about a potential, although very belated, birthday present for Edward burned in my mind. I had to share it with someone. Telling Edward was out of the question; what kind of surprise would it be if I blurted it out to him?

I dialed the number, third on my list after my father and Edward, and Alice's chirping voice came right on, "Beeellaaa! What are you up to today?"

Alice was not always easy to deal with. The girl had mood swings, Sybil style. One moment she was laughing, joking, and bouncing around the store. The next moment you could almost see it as if a switch had been turned off in her head—the light from her eyes would go out and she'd be at her lowest low.

We talked about it somewhat. About her depression and how she hated the side effects of the meds she was supposed to take. I knew very little about what she dealt with and tried my best to cheer her up, and when that didn't work, I just dove into work, helping her the best I could with the inventory, storing, and cleaning. I even managed to make a sale once or twice. Vera didn't approve. Alice was thankful.

More often than not, Edward liked to pretend that there was nothing wrong. Didn't he see that Alice needed help? Didn't he know that she quit getting it professionally? She had sworn me to secrecy about it. I agreed, but that didn't mean I liked it. Alice was my best friend; she deserved to be happy. Why did everyone around her turn a blind eye to her struggles?

Today the Alice on the phone sounded happy, which was getting to be more and more of a rare occurance, and to my shame, I chose to appreciate her good mood instead of addressing it.

"I have great news, Alice!" I mimicked her tone. "Remember we talked about how I couldn't figure out what to give Edward for his birthday?"

"Girl, it's been over two months, you're getting ridiculous with that idea."

"He robbed me of the opportunity," I protested. "He deserves a celebration, even if it's just a small one. I want to do something for him," I added, quieter.

"It's sweet of you, Bella; I'm sure he'll love it."

"I hope he does because I have something really special planned. Well, not planned, yet. But I hope to work it out."

"Lay it on me."

"I know how much Edward likes classical music." I was certain he had a real passion for it. He talked about loving it as a child. He told me about liking the music store next to our book shop.

Alice sighed and muttered something under her breath.

"What's that? Am I wrong?"

"You are not exactly wrong, it's just..." Alice trailed off.

Then I remembered that I had never seen Edward with an iPod and we rarely discussed our musical tastes, although we talked about everything else on Earth.

"Alice, you better tell me. It would be extremely embarrassing if I follow through with my plan and it ends up upsetting him."

"I don't know what to tell you. He stopped playing a while ago. He used to compose, and he stopped that too. He sold every musical instrument he owned. I mean, we needed money, yeah, but still. Every single piece, Bella! It's like he was punishing himself because he lived and breathed music before, and he was brilliant. Brilliant!"

That was another mystery which needing solving, and I had nowhere to turn but to Edward to look for clues.

"So, you think he won't like it if I get him backstage to meet a few people from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and possibly touch a Stradivarius violin?" I asked.

"Are you shitting me?" Alice squealed.

"No, I'm quite serious, actually."

"But how... I mean... How?"

"So, do you still think it's a bad birthday present?" I asked, satisfied with her bewildered reaction.

"You know, it would be a crime if you don't do this for him. He'll be the one shitting his pants."

What was with Alice and the bowel movement theme today?

"So, I guess I should try to do it and see then?"

"Oh, definitely! But how are you going to make it happen? Who do you know?"

"Well, my father's childhood friend Sam is in town, and his security company was hired to ensure the violin's safety. We talked about my visit to Seattle for one of the performances. I am probably exaggerating about a chance to touch it. But, Alice, Stradivarius! Can you believe it?"

"I actually can." Alice's voice was quiet. "You have no idea how much it would mean to Edward."

"Tell me."

"Our mom always dreamt about him playing with the Chicago Orchestra. I don't know by what divine intervention this opportunity is being sent to you, but I can't imagine him turning it down or not appreciating this gift. I have no words to express how special it is."

I beamed. "Then I have to make it happen for sure. Except..."

There was one complication I didn't think of before. Talking to Sam and presenting this gift to Edward also meant introducing Edward and Sam to each other, and ultimately to my father. That could be a problem if Edward decided on continuing to keep us a secret.

"Alice, I will have to talk to you about it. Since Edward and I... And my father doesn't know... I don't know how..." I stammered.

My relationship with Edward was nothing to be ashamed of; I had always been convinced of it. Then why was I finding it difficult to explain to Alice that we were in hiding?

Somehow she understood.

"Bella, girl, tell me what you need. Maybe I can help you."

"You know how they say 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions'? Well, I might get us all in trouble."

"Then we need to figure out how to make it work without complicating things."

"Wouldn't that be brilliant and the answer to all our problems?" I muttered.

"Don't be a downer, Bella. You know what? I haven't seen you in a whole week. It's Saturday, why don't you come over to our house tonight?"

"Err... Will Edward be there?"

"Edward again? What about me?" Alice was pouting; I could bet my right arm on it.

"Obviously, you're going to be there, since you're inviting me over, right?"

"Don't be a smart ass. I've missed you. Would it be so difficult to tell me that you've missed me, too? I mean, I'm so used to seeing you at least twice a week—the store is not the same without you."

My chest swelled. "Thank you, Alice, I've missed you too. I just don't know if I can today, with our house guest and all. And I don't know about Edward's plans..."

That in and of itself was a totally different issue. Even though Edward and I hadn't seen each other for almost a week, he hadn't rushed to offer for us to meet this weekend. I sighed.

"Forget Edward, I want you in my house!" Alice exclaimed. "If I could I would love for you to stay with me the entire weekend. Ohhhh, that's an idea!"

"What idea?" Whenever Alice's voice rose an octave higher than usual, it normally meant trouble. "Alice, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking your father and his house guest could use some time alone to catch up. Don't you agree?"

"I am not aware of my father's social calendar. Besides, they did plenty of it yesterday. Although I'm kind of dreading another evening with two, possibly more, very loud, very drunk friends being retrospective and keeping me up all night."

"Then tell your father that you will spend the night at my house!"

"Are you crazy?" I sputtered. "He will never let me stay the night with Edward under the same roof!"

"Does he know about Edward?" Alice countered.

"No... but..." Okay, she had a point.

"Does your father know about _me_?" she asked again.

"Does he ever." I laughed. "You know he wishes he were a little younger, just for you."

"Eww, Bella, not the idea I need to have planted in my head."

"Please, as if you didn't know. You flirt with him shamelessly. My poor man."

"Well, it might as well be put to good use tonight. Is he around?"

"Who, my dad?"

"Yes, your dad, Bella, the man who always tries to flirt back, mind you."

"I don't know how you can call extreme twitching of his mustache while he bores holes into the wall behind you flirting."

"I know, poor man indeed. Let me talk to him. In a few minutes he'll think it was his idea to not keep a teenage girl in a house full of drunk men all night. By the end of the hour, he'll be beating himself up for not considering it earlier."

"Alice, you're evil"

"It's for the greater good."

All the same, by six o'clock in the evening I was rolling to Edward's house, once again impressed by its architectural beauty and the gorgeous landscape surrounding it. I meant to ask Edward to show me around. Maybe we could take a walk tomorrow morning?

My heart beat faster. I was going to spend the night at Edward's house. Would he be happy about me being here? Mad? I longed to see his dear face, hear his voice. I missed his arms.

As usual, I took a visual inventory of the cars at the car port. Both his Volvo and Harley were in place. Edward was home!

Except he wasn't.

Alice greeted me with an apologetic look on her face as she tried her darndest to compensate for his absence with the tighter hugs and endless prattle. I let her walk me around and feed me dinner. She tried to not show her disappointment when I asked her to let me spend some time with Bree. Knowing I was coming tonight, I had my notebook packed and another story of mine to read to her.

Rose was quiet. Never one to fumble, she didn't seem to be able to focus on one particular task today. If I didn't know any better, I would have said that Rose was a nervous wreck this evening.

"Alice, are you sure I came at a good time?" I whispered while watching Rose stocking and restocking pans on the lazy susan tray.

"Don't even worry about it. Rose is probably worried about Bree. She has some big tests coming up. Wanna play cards? Jasper taught me poker; I can teach you."

"I know how to play poker, Alice." I smiled. I could thank Phil for that. Trying to get in good graces with his step-daughter, he spent a considerable amount of time showing me the tricks of the game last summer.

"Sweet! Rose, join us!" Alice was on her feet, searching the drawer for the cards.

Rose murmured something, sounding a lot like "might as well kill some time," and nodded with a tight smile.

"Let's raise the bets!" Alice announced.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Alice, please, this is not Poker Royale, take it down a notch in excitement."

"Excuse me for trying to have fun."

"Just... play." Rose gestured her to go on.

We stayed in the kitchen and played for two hours. I wasn't sure what exactly Jasper had taught Alice, but she couldn't bluff for shit. Rose, on another hand, was killing it.

"Where did you learn to play so well?" I asked her.

"I grew up in my father's auto body shop. I was one of the boys." She was still giving off an uneasy vibe, checking the clock on her phone next to her constantly, but at least she was smiling.

'Booya! Full House!" she announced, slamming three queens and two nines on the table.

Alice and I groaned, folding.

"So, Bella, about Edward's present." Alice reminded me why I came here in the first place.

"Yeah, I will for sure buy the tickets to the performance, the rest I'll play by ear. Right now, the probability of us seeing the violin in person is very slim. At least we'll get a chance to hear it. I hope Edward agrees to come."

"He will, Bella. The man can't say no to you. I don't think he is capable of it."

Little did she know.

Ten o'clock rolled around. We kept playing, although it was obvious our hearts were not in it. Rose popped the cork from a bottle of red wine and, without giving me a second glance, placed three glasses on the table and poured drinks for all of us. Granted, only a little bit for Alice and me. She was probably never going to say the words, but that was when I knew that I was fully accepted in this house. No one cared about my age—no one would try to get me drunk, either—but for the first time in my life, a sense of belonging washed over me, and if it weren't Rose we were talking about I would have hugged the crap out of her and blamed the wine for it.

About an hour later the wine was almost gone. We took turns tucking Bree in, whispering our "good-nights" to her. Back in the kitchen, which had become my favorite room in the house, Rose turned on some music her laptop.

"Eww, Lady Gaga!" Alice made a point to gag.

"What's wrong with Lady Gaga?" I asked.

"You seriously have to ask that question?"

"I mean, yeah, she seems to be trying a little too hard." I shrugged. "Otherwise, she is just another artist, I guess. I can understand her desire to stand out. I can even appreciate some of her outfits, though most of the time she scares the crap out of me."

"Funny you say that," Rose said, collecting the cards and stashing them away. She glanced at the phone again. "I read one of her interviews recently. She is certainly fascinating, but the way she talks about art and herself in it – it's like she hides behind all this bizarreness and a larger than life persona, claiming that it's for the sake of art. She vowed that she'd never be seen in sweatpants in public. That's her prerogative of course; she doesn't have to reveal her true self to strangers, but does she know who she really is herself? She is hugely talented, that girl, yet somehow all I see is a confused, lonely person she tries very hard to conceal."

"So what if she is a little crazy?" Alice asked, picking up the wine and taking a swig straight from the bottle. "She found herself an outlet, she has people who support and understand her. Not all of us are that lucky."

"Alice, that's enough." Rose tugged the bottle away from her hands, and Alice let it go with a huff. "You know better than that."

"Well, why did you let me have it in the first place?"

"You are an adult. I have to trust you to make adult decisions. How else can I be sure that you would be able to..." Rose stopped mid-sentence and darted her eyes at me. She sighed. "I need you to be responsible, Al, please."

"Right. That's all you need me for, isn't it?" Alice set her lips in a thin line.

There may have been no more spoken words passing between them, but the disappointment and bitterness in the air was louder than any heated exchange. Alice was the first to lower her gaze. Tossing her head up, she turned her back to us and stepped to the laptop on the counter. Turning up the volume of the music, she brought her hands above her head and began to move to the beat of the song playing. At first, it was her just swaying from side to side, slow and on the same spot. Shortly, the music switched.

_I'm loose, loose_  
_And everyone knows I get off the chain..._

Alice whirled around and started mouthing the words, looking straight at Rose.

_Baby it's the truth, truth_  
_I'm like inception I play with your brain_

Continuing singing along with the lyrics of the song, she began moving around the kitchen. Her moves became jerky, her voice louder.

"Alice, dial it down," Rose warned her.

Alice danced across the kitchen to the door and closed it. She pointed to it in "happy?' gesture. Rose glared.

_I don't play no games, so don't get it confused, no_  
_Cuz you will lose, yeah_

Alice picked up the bottle again and sang into it as if it were a microphone. I snickered; Rose didn't crack a smile.

"Alice," she said in a low voice. "Stop."

Alice didn't listen.

_Don't stop, keep it moving_  
_Put your drinks up_  
_Pick your body up and drop it on the floor_

She lowered herself down in half-sitting position and started pumping her butt. There was something comical and yet aggressive in her movements. She kept dancing all around the kitchen, at that point yelling the words out, swaying her body and head wildly. After the second hook, she doubled her efforts, singing at the top of her lungs, her body was shaking almost violently. It was like that internal switch inside her brain went off again.

The music changed again, and the fast beat of another song I didn't recognize came on. The bottle slipped from Alice's hands, shuttering into pieces at her feet. She didn't pay attention, stomping over it with a sickening crunching sound.

I glanced at Rose with worry. She shook her head at me, warning me to stay out of it. She got up, with her eyes on her sister-in-law, and grabbed a cup of water from the counter. "That's enough!"

Before I could blink, she was next to Alice, throwing water right into her face.

"Ahhh!" Alice stopped, her eyes wild. "Why did you do that?"

"You lost it again." Rose brushed her fingers carefully over Alice's cheek. "Come on, girl, you need to get a grip." She pushed her black, wet hair away from her face.

Alice blinked a few times. "Why aren't they at home yet?" she asked, still looking disoriented. "Do you know where they are?"

"They are busy doing their thing, Al," Rose replied, stepping away and avoiding our eyes. "You shouldn't worry about anything."

"But _you _do," Alice said. "You think you're so good at hiding it."

"I'm not hiding anything. You need to calm down... Shit, where's my phone?" Panic flashed across Rose's face.

Alice patted her back pocket with a smirk.

"What the hell, Al? I need my phone, _now_. Give it back!"

"Why?"

"Because! Give it back!"

"Are you expecting an important call on Saturday night?

"I... No..." She lied, and not well. _Oh Rose, what are you hiding?_

"So, I guess I could keep it tonight, then." Alice wasn't trying to mask a triumph in her voice.

"Fine, keep it." Rose dumped dirty dishes into the sink and grabbed the broom. "And while you're at it, clean this mess up," she thrust it into Alice's hands, "now."

Alice snatched the broom from Rose's hands. "In a flash, ma'am."

"I'm sorry," I mouthed to Rose and stepped to the sink to help with the dishes.

"It's getting late," she said, shaking her head. "Are you ready to settle in?"

"No way. I'm waiting for Jasper." Alice took to cleaning the floor.

"Knock yourself out."

Something in Rose's tone told me that unlike Alice, she not only knew exactly where the guys were this evening, but also that we shouldn't expect them back soon. Strangely enough, that thought mollified me, because Rose was a fierce protector of her family and would never let the guys get into trouble. There must have been a good explanation why they were out this late at night.

"Bella, I don't want to assume anything about your..." she seemed to be looking for words, "...sleeping arrangements here. But just in case, I'll make a bed for you on the sofa in the study room down the hall. Feel free to use it." Rose thought far more ahead than I did, apparently.

I swallowed and nodded. "Thank you. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

"No bother, kid. I'm glad you're here tonight. Alice would have driven me nuts."

Alice snorted. "Be honest, I managed to do that anyway."

"Yeah, I love you too, SIL." Rose smiled and slipped into the dark of the hallway.

xxx

If I had any alcohol left in my system at one o'clock in the morning, Edward knocked it right out of me when he finally showed up with Emmett and Jasper.

A yawning Rose shuffled by us to open the door for them, while Alice held me in the kitchen for another moment and then pushed me out as a big, pleasant reveal.

Edward didn't find it amusing.

"She doesn't belong here," he lashed out at her. "Bella, go home!"

I willed my body to not flinch at his words. I had no right to be upset with him; I was here practically uninvited, since I learned after tonight's events that Alice's opinion couldn't count.

It wasn't very surprising that no one except her argued with him.

The high-beams of Edward's Volvo followed me all the way to my house. He parked and waited across the street for me to get out of my truck and walk into my house. I heard the screech of the tires and the engine accelerating away as I closed the door behind me. Sam snored like a freight train in the living room, and Charlie echoed his efforts in his bedroom.

And I...

I was going to have a long, exhausting sleepless night—or several, depending on how soon Edward was going to call me again. I wasn't going to do that first, of that he could be certain.

xxx

Sunday was... I didn't remember Sunday. It was dull and grey and there was no word from Edward.

On Monday, after another long day—first at school, then at Newtons Outfitters—I was walking out of the store when Mike decided to join me.

"Soooo, Bella..."

He smiled with what he probably considered his sexy smirk. I wondered how many times he practiced it in front of the mirror. "How you doin'?" he asked, puckering his lips and wiggling his brows.

At first I thought he was joking. I even did a double-take, expecting him to laugh at his own poor Joey Tribbiani impersonation. But no, the guy was serious, and absolutely clueless about how far off the mark he was with his attempts to charm me.

"I'm doing fine," I answered, keeping my head down so he couldn't see me rolling my eyes.

"You never return my texts or calls," he complained. "And barely talk to me here at the store. I don't understand why you're avoiding me."

I sighed. His inability to take a hint, or sheer stubbornness to admit defeat, was wearing me down. I had wanted to quit this job long ago, but I had no other alternatives in this small town, and Mrs. Newton was always nice to me. When she offered to keep me for several hours a week after the summer, I couldn't turn her down. How could I say no to a small but steady income? Although I questioned my decision every time I stepped into the store and I saw Mike's head bobbing between the aisles. He was always too happy to see me, too eager to assist me with holding the ladder or counting the inventory, even though I never asked for help.

"I come here to work, Mike," I said, ordering myself to keep my snark on a low setting. "It's been pretty busy, which makes your mom very happy. She says it will allow her to send you to a better college. Aren't you happy about that?"

"Wanna know what would make me happy?"

I really didn't, but he was about to tell me and there was no escape from his body suddenly trapping me against the wall right outside of the store, his arms placed on either side of my head. Astonished by his audacity, I momentarily lost the ability to speak. Interpreting it as a sign of something completely different than disgust, Mike moved his hand to touch my cheek. I flinched.

"Come on, Bella, don't you know how much I like you?" He pressed himself lightly to me, not paying attention to my squirming or the gagging sounds I was making. "I've been schmoozing you and dancing around you for months. Stop playing ice-princess."

In response, I stopped breathing, having only one thought on my mind—I was calculating the perfect move, which should result Mike on his knees, checking whether his boy-parts were still intact.

The cackling noise behind Mike distracted us both. He whipped his head in the direction of it, slacking against me. I took the opportunity to shove him off me, still intending to follow through with my idea to make him pay.

He staggered back and I stepped around him.

Any other day and time, the view that opened before my eyes would have made me insanely happy. Not today, not now.

A Fatboy, in all its magnificent dark, gleaming beauty, was stationed across the parking lot with one passenger on top of it, who was staring at us.

"Whoa!" Mike whispered, effectively forgetting about my presence.

Contrary to Mike, I wasn't going to pay any attention to the Harley or to the rider, who slung his long leg off the bike and took off his helmet. My heart squeezed painfully at the familiar sight of his lanky, tall figure and wild copper hair.

I missed him desperately.

I couldn't let him continue jerking me around.

So I decided to play dirty. I was so pissed that I forgot to hate myself for it.

"You know what, Mike?" I hoped my voice sounded seductive enough.

"Huh?" He turned to me, blinking off an unmistakable lust for the glorious, real-size toy calling for him from fifty feet away.

"I'll see you tomorrow at school, okay?" I smiled at him with encouragement.

I was going to hell. Not only for something I promised myself I'd never do—for giving Mike hope—but also for playing the jealousy card with Edward.

Mike scratched his head, glancing comically between me and the bike. I started to walk to my truck.

"Hey, wait!" He finally came to his senses and reached to grab my hand.

"Bella, baby, are you coming?" Edward called, flashing a brilliant smile. He placed the helmet on the seat next to him and spread his hands in inviting gesture, as if he wanted me to run into his waiting arms. He was so sure I would that he didn't even step away from the bike.

That ticked me off more. I wanted to ignore him and the intense look on his face, despite the smile touching his lips. I contemplated getting into my truck instead and driving away. Not _too _far away, probably, considering how much faster the Fatboy was compared to my senior-citizen vehicle. Mike was another story. Whatever Edward and I were not, it would have been nice to make an impression that we were. Maybe then Mike would finally back off.

"Why are you here?" I asked the obvious as I came closer to the bike.

His eyes roamed over my body and steadied on my face; blood rushed up to my cheeks. Jesus Christ, he didn't even touch me yet and I was already flushed.

A slow, sure smirk appeared on his face. He cocked his head. "Marking my territory, of course."

"Not funny." I narrowed my eyes at him, pushing down the inexplicable urge to kiss that smirk off. "And you might be too late for that." Feeling vicious, I pointed my thumb to Mike.

"I don't think so." Edward scowled and drew me to him by my waist. With his free hand, he swiped my hair away from my shoulder, uncovering my neck. "I don't think so, Bella," he repeated, brushing his fingers across my collarbones.

My heart stuttered and sped in my chest at his touch, the feeling so immense, I had to close my eyes and... I needed to count to ten or something. Do whatever it took to keep me grounded and help me not to throw my hands around him like I ached to. His eyes, wide and unusually dark, were on my mouth when I calmed myself down enough to look at him again. He fisted his hand around the neck of my sweater, pulling at it. I didn't move. He inhaled loudly and leaned to me, bringing his forehead to mine.

"I missed you," he whispered. He was so close, I could taste the hint of smoke mixed with mint on his breath and feel his chest vibrating as he spoke. The sincerity in his eyes pulled me in, pinned me to him. I groaned.

_Don't melt, don't melt._

_Sheesh, Bella, have some pride._

"Did you miss me on Saturday night?" I asked, because he needed to know that the last two days were torture for me. From the minute he told me he didn't want me in his house and made me leave. Until now. Even now.

"Like fucking crazy."

"You had a strange way of showing it."

"Bella..." He let go of my sweater and smoothed it over my shoulder, remorse set in deep lines around his eyes and his mouth. "I'm sorry." Without waiting for my response, he took my face between his hands and pressed his mouth to mine.

His kiss said the rest. I believed him, like always. When his tongue glided over mine, I moaned, embarrassingly, loudly.

"Forgiven?" he asked, detaching himself from my lips only when I was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen.

"Not yet," I panted.

"Fair enough. I knew you were going to make me work for it."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Challenging him while feeling his warm hands holding me firmly at my hips was a losing battle, but I was going to do my darndest to at least try.

"Who's the guy?" He jutted his chin in Mike's direction.

"Ignore him."

"Bella, I'm not an idiot. I saw him before. He's that jackass, isn't he?"

"What do you mean?"

"The one who doesn't get the hints."

"I guess," I mumbled.

His jaw tensed as he grumbled something through his teeth. He then slid his hand down to hold mine and nudged me to turn around.

"Hey." He addressed Mike in an even, but loud enough voice to be heard from a few cars distance away.

Mike, who was pretending to be tying his shoes for the past five minutes while stealing glances at us, snapped to stand up and bumped into the opened door of his truck. "Ouch, shit... Yes? Hi." He looked at us, rubbing his forehead, but didn't come closer.

"The boy has no balls," Edward informed me in conspiratorial voice.

"How very observant of you," I replied.

"Isn't it obvious to you?"

"Sorry, I'm not that well-versed on the subject to judge from this distance."

"I intend to keep it that way where it comes to any other guy but me."

"Oh yeah? Then where were you just a few minutes ago?"

"What happened? If the juvenile tried to educate you on his still undeveloped anatomy or worse—touch you—so help me God." Jealousy flashed bright green in his eyes. I had pushed just the right buttons it seemed._ Good. _I also wanted to push my fingers through his soft hair, but that would be weakness I wasn't ready to show.

"And if he did, what are you going to do?" I asked, watching his pupils bloom in reaction to my words. "Tell him to go home?"

He inhaled and exhaled sharply and shook his head. "I told you I'm sorry."

"And I told you it's not good enough."

"All right," he ground out. "Let me deal with the boy first...

"So, Mike, right?" he called out before I could object, and I cringed, suspecting he was going to take out his frustration on my classmate.

Several different emotions fought inside me at the same time. On one hand, Mike was getting obnoxious and what he tried to pull by the store a few minutes ago was nothing short of harassment. He deserved a lesson. One the other hand, I was afraid Edward would go too far and get in trouble. God forbid, police got involved. That was not how I wanted to introduce Edward to my father. Also, and that was the most troublesome part of the whole ordeal, I was getting strangely turned on by the sight of possessive, jealous Edward. Not that I hadn't seen him like that before, but never in public. Possessive and jealous Edward in public was extremely hot.

"Yeah?" Mike seemed to have miraculously recovered the missing parts responsible for his boyhood and slammed the door of his truck closed. "Sup?"

_Sup? Oh, Mike, don't play cocky and stupid. It will not end well._

"Nothing much. Mind if I talk to you for a sec?"

"What are you doing?" I hissed to Edward.

"It will be just a minute," he replied calmly, leaving no room for an argument.

There was no time to argue, either, as Mike was already walking over to us. "Talk about what? Who are you?"

"I'm Edward." He extended his hand to Mike. "And, if you haven't figured it out yet, I'm Bella's boyfriend."

Whoa! Edward declared himself as my boyfriend?

_He just kissed you stupid for everyone to see, Bella, wasn't it enough of a declaration?_

Maybe it was, but to hear him say it out loud felt like I had just been granted a miracle. Overwhelmed, I swayed on my feet, and Edward supported me by draping his arm around my shoulder. _Possessively. _I rolled my eyes at my internal self who couldn't help the quiet swoon swelling around in my chest.

Mike scowled but accepted Edward's hand. "Nice to meet you," he muttered.

"Can't say the same here, I'm afraid." Edward's grip must have been a little too firm, judging by Mike's pinched expression.

He attempted to subtly shake it off, but Edward didn't let him go.

"Bella never mentioned you before," Mike grunted out, wincing.

"Is that so?" Edward's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Yeah, we spend a lot of time together. Ask her." And obnoxious Mike was back.

"I never talk to you at school," I said in my defense.

"You talk to me here at work."

"Not by choice!"

Mike pressed his lips together at my words, the gleam in his eye held no pleasant promises. Oh, crap, there went my small but steady income.

Realistically, after my interaction with him this evening, my choices were limited to two. I could either file a complaint with my boss about her son sexually harassing me, ask her to keep him away from me and see how that went down. In flames. Or I could quit. Frankly, it was time.

"Listen, Mike..." I made my decision.

"Bella, I got this," Edward interrupted me.

I shut up in order to show some solidarity with my boyfriend. He said he had this.

"You know—" Edward said, looking Mike square in the eye, "—Bella tells me she values her job here. She says everyone is very professional and business-like. That includes you, right, Mike?"

Mike grimaced, still unable to free his hand from Edward's tight grip.

"You are being respectful and professional towards Bella, right, Michael?"

"Right, right. Let go, man."

"I tell you what." Edward finally released Mike's hand, but grabbed and squeezed his shoulder before the boy could move away. "You keep it that way, okay, Mike? Keep your paws away from my girl, I mean. Can you do that for me, Mike? Because that would be fucking tremendous of you."

"What are you talking about?" Mike tried to roll his shoulder without much success.

"I'm talking about your ability to use your fucking arms, legs and father children in the future. That's what I'm talking about. Did I make myself clear this time?"

The knuckles of Edward's hand squeezing Mike's shoulder turned white.

"I'm clear, Bella and I have a strictly professional relationship." Mike groaned, cringing. "Let go," he pleaded.

Edward didn't.

Digging his thumb into the crook of Mike's neck, he asked, "And at school?"

That was a really good question. As Edward so eloquently put it, it would be tremendous if Mike left me alone at school as well.

"She is nothing more than a fellow student to me," Mike promised with the grimace of pain on his face. He glanced back at the store as if he was hoping for his mom to appear and rescue him.

"That's what I thought." Edward smiled and patted Mike's shoulder as he winced and cowered away. "Enjoy your evening, pal."

Edward wrapped his hand around my waist and held me tight while we both watched Mike saunter back to his car, get in, and drive away.

Only then I turned to him. "I don't know whether to hit you or thank you."

"As long as it means you touching me, I'll take it."

He pulled me away from the bike.

"Where are we..." I was confused.

"To your truck. I have a lot of apologizing to do and I want to start as soon as possible."

* * *

**A/N:** **There are clues in this chapter, nothing is accidental. Want to make a few guesses about what's coming?**  
**  
****The song used in this chapter is "Dance on the Floor" by Jennifer Lopez and Pitbull. It's actually kind of fun.**

**Thank you for reading, and if you want to chat, I'm detochkina on Twitter.**


	35. Chapter 33, Perfunctory

**A/N: Hello again. Still here? Thank you. I appreciate your PMs and tweets checking on me. **

**My thanks to my usual support crew: saluki168, philadelphic, Rodeomom95 and MichelleMMarie. You rock.**

**In previous installments: **  
**Saturday night - Edward meets with pink girl (Kate) only to find out she knew about his attempts to break into their banking system from the beginning. Yet, she lets him go... Jasper denies any involvement with Kate. On the same night, Alice invites Bella to their house for a "sleepover". It doesn't go well; Bella is forced to leave. **  
**Monday evening - Edward comes to apologize to Bella after her work shift, he meets Mike Newton. **  
**This chapter picks up after Bella leaves Cullens' house on Saturday night. Edward has something to say.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns everything Twilight, I only borrow. It's my characters who steal. **

* * *

**Chapter 33**

**Perfunctory**

_**EPOV**_

It wasn't surprising when I came back home that everyone was still up. Except for Alice, who was probably too mad at me to face me. Good for us, I guess. I really didn't have it in me to fight with her again tonight.

As usual, we gathered in the kitchen. Rose sat at the table, with her head on her hands and her eyes on me. She knew already, no doubt, what happened with me and Kate. Since they all were still here, waiting, I was probably expected to fill in the gaps. Fucking lovely.

I sniffed the air. "It smells funky in here. Wine?" I looked at Emmett.

"Alice dropped a bottle earlier. It was almost empty, but the pieces were everywhere," Rose muttered into her elbow.

"What was Alice doing with a bottle of wine?" I didn't like how Rose's eyes shifted. "Rose? Have you, guys, been drinking?"

"A little," she admitted.

"When? Not with Bella here?"

Rose didn't answer.

"Rose? Look at me." I raised my voice. "Did you let Bella drink?"

"It was just a few sips."

"Are you fucking serious? She is seventeen!"

Rose sat up straight in her chair. Emmett moved closer and stood behind her.

"Now you're worried?" she said. "You should've thought about it when you _befriended _her. If she is old enough to hang out with us, she's old enough to have a little bit of wine. I didn't get her drunk, Edward."

I opened my mouth to object, but she continued, "Out of all nights, Bella had to show up here tonight while I'm worried sick about you and have no idea whether I should pack our fucking bags or brush up on my bar exam questions. I needed a drink, and I wasn't going to sneak around, so I poured some for the girls, too. It wasn't a lot."

I couldn't believe it. "That's your excuse? What about Alice? She can't mess with her medication."

"Alice hasn't taken her medication in a while."

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said, have you checked the medicine cabinet lately? The bottle has been half-full since June."

"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked. The perplexed and worried expression on Emmett's face mirrored my feelings.

"Say anything to whom? And why do you think I left it alone? I asked her about it."

"And?"

"And she told me she was feeling better and didn't need it anymore."

"And you believed her? Rose, what the fuck?"

"Edward, calm down." Emmett placed a hand on Rose's shoulder.

"Why _wouldn't _I believe her?" Rose got up, stepped to the sink and pulled a bottle with bleach and an empty plastic bucket from underneath. She poured the chemical in, mixing it with water, grabbed a rag, and began scrubbing the floor.

"Rose, you're beat, let me help," Emmett murmured, squatting next to her.

She jerked her arm away from him. "No. I have to _do _something. I need to be _busy_."

Emmett stepped away.

"Alice... is... an adult," her words were coming out in short pants as she got back to scrubbing, "not... another baby... I have to spoon-feed." She paused and turned to me, her face pink. "She told me she was better, and I had no reason to think she was lying."

What was she talking about? Alice was far from being better; Rose was delusional. I wanted tell her so, but then again, weren't we all?

Besides, one thing was true–Alice wasn't a baby, if she didn't want to take her meds, I couldn't force her to, unless she presented a danger to herself or others. And it wasn't my place to chastise Rose. Not when I had fucked up so royally, and not when I hadn't been treating the people I loved properly, including Bella. Especially, Bella.

"Alice is the least of my concerns right now." Done with the floor, Rose collected her cleaning supplies. "Talk, Edward."

I jerked out of my thoughts. "Hmmm?"

As if he had a sixth sense, Jasper walked into the room. "What's up with the smell? It stinks in here."

"You'll live. Someone, start the coffee, I'll be back in a minute." She looked at me pointedly, pushed Jasper aside, and left the kitchen, carrying the bucket filled with dirty water out.

"I need to know what happened there tonight, Edward. " As usual, she got straight to the point as soon as she returned.

Rehashing the events of the evening wasn't easy. My fingers were shaking around my coffee mug when I got to the point of telling them how Kate confronted me. There was no question in my mind that Kate knew about my plans. Knew from the beginning. I just couldn't believe how she had put up such a good act for weeks, feigning innocence. I got played. Skillfully so. And I still couldn't figure out what her angle was.

"She let me go." I felt my face heating up as I recounted, with a lot of editing, our last minutes together. "Until the last moment I thought she'd do something drastic and try to turn me in."

"Are you sure you weren't followed?"

"I'm sure, Rose," Emmett responded. "We're clean."

"And if she decides to turn you in... What do you think she has on you, Edward?"

"Not much," I said thoughtfully. "I mean, all evidence of the keystroke logger on her laptop is gone. I checked the logs on the flash drive I got back. I programmed it to run a scan of her hard drive and the system registry after uninstalling the logger. It was clean. Of course, they can still try to go after me–"

"No one is going after you, E," Jasper interrupted. He had been unusually quiet during our entire conversation. He had refused coffee and still looked way too alert for three o'clock in the morning. "She's taken care of."

Rose ignored Jasper's comment. "And if they go after you?"

"Well, since any remote evidence is destroyed, they don't have a leg to stand on," I answered.

"But you said she knew about your attempts from the beginning. Wouldn't she have collected certain proof against you?"

"The keystroke logger could be a result of malware for all anyone knows. The only time I was inside her computer, it was under her login name, and she was the one letting me in. I'd like to see the bank policy on that and how she'd admit that fact to her employer. Although..." Yes, there was one particular thought, which had been nagging me all evening.

"What?" Emmett asked, leaning forward.

"Jesus, Edward, speak!" Rose's cheeks had gone pale. "Although, what?"

"If she knew about me and my attempts to break in, wouldn't she also check the connections around her computer? Wouldn't she find my flash drive? However small..."

"I told you guys," Jasper spoke, interrupting me again, "forget about her."

"What are you, the Godfather?" Rose asked. "How can we let it go? Why are you so sure about her?"

Jasper rolled his eyes. "I'm telling you, I took care of her. It's not in her best interest to bother us or go forward with the information."

"And what if you misjudged her?" I asked, not placated by his assurances.

"Well, that's the risk you'll have to take. It's out of your control, unless you want to get rid of her completely." He wiggled his brows.

"No," Rose gasped. "Jasper, your jokes are as fucked up as you are. Not funny at all."

"Who said it was a joke?" Jasper's eyes gleamed darkly.

"I say it is," Emmett interjected; the white knuckles on his clasped hands told me how seriously he actually took Jasper's words. "Since you said you took care of her keeping her mouth shut, we are moving on."

Still, I made a mental note to search around about Kate further. No matter how much I wanted to be done with her, I couldn't let that girl be in danger because of me. And if she had anything to do with Jasper... Well, I had to find out the truth all the more.

"So, what now?" Rose asked the inevitable. "What are we going to do now?"

I thought desperately of an answer.

"It can't be over." She turned to her husband. "Emmett, the money... if we don't…"

"We will figure it out, Rosie. I promise." Emmett took her hand; his tone was far from convincing.

"How much do you need?" I asked, realizing I might have had a solution... Could it be that easy?

"The deposit is fifty grand due by the end of September."

I calculated in my head. If I wiped out all my savings from my free-lancing jobs...

"I think I've got enough savings for the deposit," I said, relieved at the simplicity of my idea. "I need to check the latest statement, but I think I have close to fifty there. Maybe fifty-five."

"Oh, we need a lot more than that," Jasper informed us smiling jovially. "Don't forget about the guy who told us about this job. The agreement was that his cut goes to him regardless of the outcome of the job. That was the only way to keep him quiet."

"What the hell, Jasper?" I choked on the idea of parting with the money we didn't make. "What kind of an agreement is that?" I turned to Rose. "Did you know about that?"

"I did." She nodded slowly, her expression as still as a stone.

_Do people in this family talk to each other at all?_

"Emmett?" I asked. _Did he know?_

He shook his head slowly no.

"Emmett," Rose murmured, reaching to take his hand. "I'm sorry."

His gaze was aimless for a moment, he heaved a deep sigh. "This ends here, Rose," he told her firmly. "Never again."

Relief spread over her features. "I promise. Never again, Emmett. I swear to you."

"How much?" Emmett asked, looking at Jasper.

"A hundred fifty for the guy."

"Jesus fucking Christ, we need two hundred grand?" Emmett asked in disbelief.

"It's okay, Em, I swear, it's not a big deal." I had the money. "Rose, take everything of mine. You know I never touch my stake. Take it, it's all yours."

"He is practically a saint." Jasper chuckled. "Rose, Mother Theresa here is feeling particularly generous. _Take it, Rose, take all his!_" he mockingly punched air a few times.

Fucker could keep yapping for all I cared. I had to fix the problem, and the solution was right in front of me. Rose could use my cut from all our other jobs. I never cared to ask about exact amount, but there should be plenty to cover our expenses. The only issue was the majority of it was offshore in different accounts and it could take time to pull the funds together without drawing any suspicion. I'd have to talk to Emmet about the details.

"Edward, I can't," Rose protested. "It's not fair to you. I can't leave you with nothing."

"Rose, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you to take it. Emmett, tell her!"

Emmett wasn't listening.

"Em?" I pushed his arm.

"Sure, sure," he responded absentmindedly.

"It's settled then." I slapped my thighs, sealing the deal. "I'll take care of the deposit, and then we'll work on getting the rest of the money."

"No, Edward." Rose dug the heels of her palms into her eyes. "You don't understand. The treatment itself is half of the battle."

"How so?"

Sighing, she lowered her hands to face me. "We'll need transportation, hotel, food, there will be post-treatment therapy. Once this hits us, I can't worry about finances. And we have no idea how Bree is going to respond to treatments."

"I get it now," I mumbled feeling like idiot. "I'll help, Rose."

Her eyes flashed. "How?"

"How, how. We'll rob a bank, Rosie!" Jasper laughed. "Right, E?"

"Shut the fuck up, Jasper!"

I took it out on him, while there was a part of me that no longer believed it to be a far-fetched idea. Not at the rate we were falling.

"You're laughing, Jasper?" Rose stood up, pushing the chair out with a screech. "You better come up with another idea quick or I'll make you suffer so bad, you'll wish you were never–"

"Rose, don't." Emmett grabbed her hand, shaking his head.

"But–"

"Not now. Everyone's exhausted; you've had a few drinks. Later, please."

A silent conversation quickly passed between them.

"Later it is," she muttered, dropping her eyes down. "All right," she told all of us, "let's see if any of us can get some sleep tonight."

"I can!" Jasper promised, not fazed by the altercation, what so ever.

"Excellent," Rose responded. "You're gonna need it."

I stayed behind in the kitchen. Half a bottle of vodka and I was still awake and still miserable. To stop the room from spinning I lowered my head on the table. It made me feel worse.

"Go to bed, Edward."

I lifted my head slightly at Rose's raspy voice and dropped it down again. "Don't worry about me," I heard myself saying. It came out as gargling sound. "I'm fine."

"Wanna know something?" Her voice was closer, at my ear. I felt her lifting my arm and placing it on her shoulder. She pulled me to get up. "I have never, ever seen you fine."

xxx

My room was dark. Was it my room? My head pounded, my mouth felt like the Sahara desert at noon—dry, sandy, and fiery hot.

"Are you up?" Emmett's loud voice came out of nowhere. "Rose left Tylenol and water for you."

I groaned into the pillow. "Go away."

"Suit yourself then."

Tylenol wasn't a bad idea. I felt for it on the stand and popped the pills into my mouth. After crunching them with my teeth, I washed the bitterness down with the full bottle of water. On all fours, I brought my head down, burying it into the pillow. There was not a single thought in my head except for one, begging for the headache to go away. I passed out again shortly after.

With my brain shut off and vision still blurry, I made my way down to the kitchen. Rose was there, the smells of her cooking wafted around, and although I hadn't eaten in almost two days, the smell made me nauseous.

"Oh, God," I moaned, holding my head and trying to swallow down the urge to throw up. Why did I come down here?

"You look green," Rose informed me.

I grimaced.

"Here, you need this." She held out a glass with something of unidentified color. It looked like goop.

"Been watching too much _Shrek _with your kid?" I asked. "Whatcha cooking there, eyeball jelly on toast?"

"Ha-ha," she said, scowling. "Drink, you bastard!" She pronounced the word like "_bastaid,_", and somehow it didn't sound too demeaning.

"Seriously, it looks like donkey crap," I whined, accepting the glass. I smelled it, aghast. "Is there spinach in it?"

"Spinach, blueberries, kiwi, orange juice. With your propensity to drown your problems in alcohol, I'm surprised you haven't learned the best cure for a hangover yet. Your body needs anti-oxidants after being pumped with toxins," Rose chided. "Drink up!"

"Bully," I muttered and took a few sips of the drink. It didn't go down easy. "Ughhh, yuck!"

"The consistency isn't great, I know, but it will help, you'll see."

Wow, Rose was actually sympathetic.

"We need to talk," I said after finishing and rinsing my mouth out.

Some of last night's events started coming back to me. Long drive to Olympia, pink girl, I drank something at her apartment, which was disgusting, as well. Fuck, she kicked me out, didn't she?

"Oh shit, Rose."

"You remember now? Yes, yesterday sucked."

I remembered a lot more than that. I sat down at the table and grabbed my head again. "I fucked up. I fucked up horribly."

"That you did." Rose was serious.

_Bella._

"Bella?"

"You saw her home."

"You let her drink and drive."

Rose's shoulders hunched forward. "It wasn't bad, Edward, I promise. She barely had any and it was early in the evening. I would never…"

"I was mean to her." I remembered _everything _now. "Why did you let me?"

_Yes, let's shift the blame._

Rose gave me a sharp look. "You've got a lot of nerve, Cullen."

"I have to go see her." I pushed myself up and swayed toward the door.

"Not in your current condition. Have you seen yourself today?"

"I've been hungover before."

"Had _she _seen you hungover before?"

Had she seen the _real me _before?

"No."

"I'd hold off on the gory truth, then." Rose smiled.

That wasn't funny but all true. There were certainly other, better ways to make an impression on a girl that meant the world to you, so I got to work.

xxx

This little project had been occupying my free time for a while and I still had a ways to go. But desperate times called for desperate measures and what originally was supposed to take another week to complete on time for Bella's birthday, I had managed to cram into one night.

Thankfully, I'd already gone through the preliminary steps, including generating the certificate and obtaining electronic signatures. I also made sure to cover all legal aspects of this endeavor. As the last step in the process I submitted my work for review. The approval normally took time. Depending on the case, it could take days, and I just couldn't imagine waiting for that long without seeing Bella. To my advantage, I'd done this before and had excellent knowledge of the guidelines.

Once submitted, it was out of my control, and so the wait began. I spent most of it lying flat in my bed, tossing the stress ball to the ceiling and watching the shades of the day moving by. An email I received at seven o'clock in the evening was short and sweet–I got it. It was time to woo my girl.

Bella's truck wasn't by her house, so on a hunch I drove to Newton's Outfitters store where I knew she still worked part-time. I saw her small frame stepping from behind the larger frame of the guy walking in front of her. He was too close to her for my liking. I recalled his face–I had seen him once before. He was the guy who planned to pursue my Bella over the summer. The guy who kept texting her; whose mama owned the place of Bella's employment.

Feeling my jaw clench, I appraised him once more, calculating my options. Friendly conversation to avoid confrontation? Intimidation? Claiming my stake? Avoidance all together? Something in Bella's expression and overall posture helped me to make my choice.

Confrontation, intimidation and claiming it was. Mama's boy Mike Newton didn't stand a chance.

xxx

Bella's truck hadn't been driven this fast since 1953.

"You want to get us killed?" she asked, glancing at me before returning her eyes back to the road.

I was rushing us to our spot at Lake Pleasant.

"I'm a good driver." I playfully steered the wheel side to side, making the truck swerve a little. "Although I admit, I've never driven a tank before."

Her snort was adorable.

"Har, har. I'm still mad at you, you know." She turned to me, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Good," I said.

"Good?"

"Yeah." Happy we'd arrived at our destination and I could finally have my hands free, I parked the truck off the road. "Your fury is stunning and I want to kiss it off." I leaned in to her, face to face, intent to make it reality.

"Nice try," she said, not pulling away but not getting closer either.

"Is it working?" I asked back.

"Kinda." Her guarded expression softened, but her eyes remained cautious.

"Good." I took her hand, stroking her knuckles. " I missed you." _God, I did._

"So you've said."

"It's true. And I have something for you."

"Are you buttering me up?" The smile finally reached her eyes.

"Kinda."

"Go on."

Oh, I was going to. It'd been too long since I had touched her. I wanted my fingers in her hair, over her taut nipples, between her legs. Her candy smell, overpowering every other inside the truck, was intoxicating.

The name of this place suddenly seemed fitting. I was going to make Bella come more than once this evening. Draw every pleasure out, watch her give; I was going to have my mouth on her today. I needed her, and I hoped I could contain myself enough to not freak her out. _Control. Control. Control._

Contradiction was my best friend, I thought while pulling down the zipper of Bella's hoodie. I pushed my hand up under her thin shirt, cupping her breast over the thin layer of her bra. Her nipple instantly puckered and she gasped. I tried to move closer.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you had something for me."

"Right." I had, indeed. Idiot, I almost forgot. "May I have your phone?" I requested.

"Hm-what?"

"Please, Bella."

When she handed it to me I pressed a few buttons, searching and loading on it what I needed.

"Here." I handed the phone back to her. "Check this out."

"_Infinitas,_ _The Star Finder in 3D_," she read out loud off the screen and looked at me smiling. "Sounds neat."

"Check on the bottom, in small print," I prompted.

My palms were suddenly sweaty. What if she thought it was a dumb idea? What if she didn't like my hastily-finished present? But the curiosity and excitement lighting up her face were worth the risk.

"_Developed by E-A-C for B_... " She frowned at the screen for a beat. "E-A-C? B?" She gasped when the realization hit her, wonder replaced by stunned expression. "You created it? For me?"

"I did. Yes." I grinned, not able to hide my satisfaction with her reaction, yet feeling anxious like a teenage boy about his first date. "What do you think?"

"This is incredible! How does it work?"

"It locates and displays celestial objects and provides some interesting facts about them. There's a quick tutorial."

"Oh, let's see." She smiled brightly at me and pressed the screen. "Step one," she read, "the best view is assumed in a horizontal position." She quirked her eyebrow at me. "You want me to lie down? Really?"

"What? It _is _the best view." I had the nerve to argue.

"Uh huh, from whose perspective?"

"From the viewer's perspective, of course."

"Of course."

"Let me give you more room."

I left the truck but wasn't going to go too far. Jogging around it, I came to Bella's side and opened her door. With the phone in hand, Bella lowered her back on the bench seat of the truck, her feet dangling on the side.

"Nice view already," I commented, taking in the sight of her – breathy, bright-eyed, with a river of silky curls cascading down, almost reaching the floor.

"I'm not convinced yet," she giggled. _Best sound ever. _She touched the screen again, reading the next prompt, "Point the device at the desired location. What is my desired location, Edward?" She raised her head to look at me.

I knew mine but wasn't going to spoil it. "It's up to you."

"Ah, okay. Another step: touch discovered objects to learn more."

How could I not? I stepped between her legs and let my hands hover over the curves of her hips before slowly pushing her t-shirt up. The view of her pale, almost translucent skin made my breath hitch. How can someone be so beautiful?

Her overwhelmed reaction mirrored mine. She sucked in a breath, her darkened eyes glued to my face while she arched toward me, her body responding to my touch.

"Did you discover anything yet?" I asked, pressing my palms into her sides, seeking more contact with her warm, smooth skin.

"What? Oh." She shifted her unfocused gaze back to the phone she still held up. "You keep distracting me."

"I'm sorry." I really wasn't.

She pointed the screen up and gasped. "What's this? I can see through the roof. All those stars on the sky! How is it even possible?" She turned to me.

"It's an optical illusion," I explained, bending down to kiss her lips parted in amazement. I had dreamt of her taste constantly over the past eight days, awake and asleep. Being here with her, feeling her, real and breathless because of me, turned me upside down. I wanted to be careful, and I didn't know how. Trying to go slow, I trailed my mouth down her neck, over her collarbones, the swell of her breasts, down to her belly button, nipping and licking as I went, tasting her softness.

"It's surreal. Oh, please... " She moaned lightly and shivered in response to my touch. "So beautiful."

"Yes, you are," I whispered reverently into her skin. She had no idea how absolutely perfect she was to me. I rubbed my nose gently along the edge of her jeans, which were sitting low on her hips.

"Oh," she breathed. "The constellations... Oh my god, Edward, look!"

"I am, baby." My eyes were fixed on the twin birth marks on her lower left hip. I needed to see more. Touch and taste more.

"B... please... I need..." I had to put enormous effort into restraining myself from doing something untoward, like going all caveman and ripping her clothes off. Telling myself I could not scare her, I moved my hands to the waistband of her jeans and gently tugged on the front, hoping she wouldn't say no.

Still holding the phone in one hand, Bella brought her other hand to me and slipped her fingers through my hair, which did nothing to help my internal frantic state of mind or my hard-on. Encouraged, I popped the buttons of her jeans and started slowly pulling them down. With a small moan she lifted her hips to make it easier for me. The sight of her in see-through blue lace against her alabaster skin was magnificent. Her chest rose and fell rapidly; her fingers never stopped their movement at the nape of my neck. _ Control? What fucking control?_

"Let me make you feel good," I whisper-begged, kissing the soft skin above the delicate material of her panties. "Please. I need it."

She groaned something in a low voice I didn't understand. More than anything I wanted to strip off all her clothes, but not here and not when her trust in me was still in question. So, I steadied myself and touched her over the panties, feeling her wetness.

Seeing she didn't protest, I began rubbing my fingers against her sensitive spot in a slow, deliberate motion. "I missed you, B. I'm sorry. Is this okay?" I whispered, kissing her inner thigh.

"Yes," she sighed, her eyes hooded. "Yes, please... " She began moving her hips to meet the rhythm of my fingers.

I knew what she liked already, and it didn't take long for me to have her where I needed–writhing and panting, and close, very close.

"Can you come like this, baby?" I was relentless, pleading, pleasing, worshiping. I sucked on the skin of her inner thigh.

"I... I..." She was gasping for air. "Yes... Oh my god... Edward!"

"I know, baby, I know." I knew exactly what she needed.

Bringing my free hand up, I pressed it to her mouth. She grasped it and then latched on to it, biting sharply into my flesh with a strangled cry. We both groaned from pleasure. Her hips came off the seat, legs stiffened, clasping me tightly between them.

"Oh!" My girl was coming.

My girl was coming, thrashing under me gloriously, but I wasn't done yet. I only gave her a few moments to catch her breath and as she was calming down from her first, I pressed into her heat again–this time with my mouth–and I didn't stop until she was coming again.

Hot. Sweet. Mine. I was never going to let this treasure go.

"I hurt you..." she whispered, softly kissing my hand. "I always do that." She sighed.

"I wanted it. I want you," I told her. "Always."

"Oh." She tried to pull me up to her, "Do you–"

"No, B, not today. You're here, with me. That's all I need right now."

She sat up, pulling her jeans up and t-shirt down. Her hair was a tangled mess, her lips were crimson and swollen, and she was glowing like a girl who just had an orgasm or two.

"You're stunning."

She smiled, her cheeks flushed. "So are you."

I shook my head. Not even close. I climbed into the truck next to her and she leaned in to me.

"Thank you for the app," she whispered, linking her fingers with mine, and kissed my shoulder. "I still can't believe it."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you liked it."

"Of course I do. So, is it available to anyone?" she asked.

"It's free, so yeah."

"You're amazing."

That look on her face–adoring and sweet–that was what I lived for. She was worth every sleepless night and the risks I was taking going against my family.

"Don't shut me out again, please," she said after awhile. "There's no reason for us to torture each other like this. I know things are not easy in your life. You're worried and I know why. I'm worried about Bree, too. She is like the little sister I never had."

"It's a lot more complicated than that." I wished I could explain; I wished I could tell her everything. I wished she would understand if I ever did.

"Whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'm here. Just don't hurt me again, Edward, please."

That simple.

"You know," she said slowly, staring at our hands clasped together, "I have something for you, too."

"Oh? "

She thought of me even when she was angry with me. How could I ever deserve her?

"Before I tell you," her tone was cautious, "remember I was gracious about your gift."

"Which one?" I smirked.

"Edward Anthony Cullen!"

Oh, how I loved hearing my name from her mouth–my real name.

"Okay, okay," I conceded. "I'll try to be gracious, too. Tell me."

"I can't give you the details yet; it's a surprise. But would you come to Seattle with me in two weeks? For the weekend."

For the weekend? Staying with Bella overnight? Fuck, that sounded... My dick immediately liked the sound of that. What was she planning? What about her father?

"Edward, you promised!" she exclaimed, seeing that I wasn't rushing to say yes. "And whatever you're thinking, it's a lot better than that."

"You have no idea what I'm thinking, B." I grinned. "And it's very, very good."

"Is that a yes?" she asked anxiously.

"It's a yes. I can't wait to spend the weekend with you, baby."

xxx

Next morning my first order of business was to speak with Em.

I found him downstairs in the study. He was facing away from the door talking on the phone.

"And if I dump that entire portfolio now?" He spoke in a hushed voice. "No, that's too low–"

_Dump what? _

I quickly stepped back into the hall before he could see me.

"Don't give me that bull about the Bear market, I'm not an idiot," Emmett spat. "Yes, but something came up, I need some free resources."

I strained, trying to catch every word. It was shitty to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help it.

"And if we trade even more aggressively..? What is the penalty..?" He groaned. "No, you're right, it doesn't make any sense. Yes, I'll look into my other assets... Alright. Thank you..."

We both startled when he came out of the room and caught me standing in the hallway. I was a stealthy motherfucker, what could I say?

"Who was that on the phone?" I asked, channeling Rose. She knew how to grab the bull by the horns; I learned from the best.

"A friend."

"A friend, huh?"

"That's what I just said."

"It sounded a lot like a business call, if you ask me," I challenged.

"I wasn't asking."

Snippy Emmet. _Hello, my brother! _

"Cut the crap, Emmett. You were talking about trading, penalties, other assets... What penalties? What other assets? What's going on? "

Emmett gave me the most anguished look I had seen in years. With his jaw set, he walked past me and opened the door. "Let's go for a smoke, E."

"You don't smoke."

"Well, it might be time to start. Come on. Rose and Bree are still asleep." He stepped outside, leaving me no choice but to follow him.

"It's been years, E," Emmett said after a lengthy silence as we walked away from the house.

I wasn't sure if it was a good time to reminiscent on the lack of our brotherly affection.

"I know. A lot of shit has happened..."

"That's not what I'm saying. It was an accident, E. I mean, what you did was... Shit... It's my little girl we are talking about. But even Rose has forgiven you."

I snorted. _Never. _

"No, it's true. It was terrible, yes. But I've done nothing to make it better. My wife made some serious mistakes too, and I let her. I watched her break you. I am very sorry."

"I deserved it."

"I thought so at first," Emmett said with that sort of a simple honesty I accepted as absolute truth.  
"We were devastated, and I thought you were too self-involved. Like Rose, I wanted you to pay. Someone had to pay for our pain, do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Then shit got real with Jasper."

I didn't comment; he was right. Shit got real very fast once Jasper entered the picture, indeed.

"Sometimes I feel like he stole my wife, bro."

"In a way he did, Em, and you let her go." I couldn't lie, especially when I expected him to be truthful with me.

He stumbled, casting an angry look at me, but it died down a moment later.

"I really messed up," he muttered, staring down at his feet as we kept walking. "I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop for a long time."

We were a good half a mile away from our house; I recognized the familiar, subdued sound of a waterfall ahead. The air became warmer, moister. Hot springs was one of the reasons why Rose insisted on investing in this property. She believed in the healing power of _geothermally heated groundwater_, as she liked to describe it. To the rest of us, it was just water, but who'd argue with Rose?

We reached the water. Weak at this time of the year, it streamed down gathering into a small steamy pool. I patted around to find the driest rock to sit on, and felt its soothing, warm surface as I lowered myself on it. Emmett did the same a few feet away. We stared at the water without speaking for a while.

"Did you know that right around our graduation her father offered me money to break up with her?" Emmet broke the silence.

"Rose?" I asked, shocked. "I had no idea."

"He did. Like in a bad movie. She had a career in law waiting, a family business to help grow; they had certain expectations of her. There was even a guy—the son of a family friend—she was supposed to marry. And here I was, destroying their plans—a kid, who barely escaped the system, an impostor. Her father hated my guts. I stupidly told Rose about his offer, and she went nuts. I blame myself for that, too. If I had kept my mouth shut, she'd be in contact with them, at least. They'd be in her life. So many times I thought I should've backed off then. Maybe she would've been happier without me."

"No way, Em. It was her decision. She chose you."

"You know she was the only reason I didn't transfer back to Washington like I promised you at the beginning. I never would've stayed in Boston after college, and she knew it. I was so fucking ecstatic when she agreed to come with me. But you remember how it was at first. She missed her old life, her family, friends. Then Bree came along. She was all alone here, we argued.

"Yeah, I remember that."

"At some point I convinced myself that it would be better if I sent her and Bree back. I had this whole plan in my head, and knowing my wife, I expected her to hate me for it forever. When the accident happened I was ashamed to admit I was almost glad, because there was no way I could send Rose back with Bree while she was sick. They were my responsibility.

"When those assholes laid me off because I missed too much work..." Emmett ran his hand through his hair, breathing hard at the memory. "When I lost my job, and Bree wasn't getting better, Rose stepped over her pride and called her parents for help. Her father refused to even speak to her. Motherfucker. Her mother cried but was afraid to go against her husband.

"I know it sounds fucked up, E," Emmett continued, his voice strained, "but I was glad it turned out that way. It was like I had no more excuses to lose them. I didn't care in what condition–they were both mine. Shortly after Rose's call to her parents we received two one-way tickets to Boston in Rose and Bree's name."

"She didn't go."

"No."

I didn't know any of this. How did I not know?

"I had no job, no medical insurance and no means to support my family, and she still didn't leave me," he muttered with a faraway look on his face.

"She loves you."

He turned to me. "I have no idea why."

"Why didn't you ever tell me any of this?" I asked.

"E, do you remember yourself the first months after Bree's accident? We dealt with the investigation. You drank. You were reckless. Every day we thought you'd get killed on your Harley. Why do you think Alice bought that Volvo the second she had money?"

I cringed. My brother was right; I was a wreck for a while.

"When Jasper came along, Rose was in this quiet state of rage. I'm not gonna lie, I was afraid that she'd snap in some terrible way, so I just let her do whatever she wanted. You remember how desperately I searched for a job, but with the real estate bubble bursting, banks collapsing, things were so fucked up. Still are. I was lost and I let her make decisions. Honestly, I didn't take Jasper seriously at first, and it didn't seem too bad when Rose was describing it. And look at us now. How could I be so fucking stupid and let my family down so badly? I was supposed to protect you all!"

Emmett picked up a rock from the ground and threw it into the water. It plopped down heavily, the surface rippled in waves, splashing on our feet.

There wasn't much I could say to that. We had all fucked up, but we were still a family. We also weren't supposed to have any secrets from each other.

"Em, what was that call about?" I asked.

"I..." Emmett started pacing around. "Shit," he muttered.

"Em, you said it yourself–no more secrets; we're sticking together," I reminded him. "What's going on?"

He nodded, rocking from heels to toes. "I've wanted to take control of the situation and cut all ties with Jasper. A few months ago I took the money we've been putting aside and made some investments."

"Okay." It didn't sound too bad. "How much?" Emmet was a smart guy, he wouldn't do anything stupid with our safety money.

He hesitated before speaking. "I invested almost all of it."

"All of it?" Maybe I overestimated my brother's cool factor after all. "How much did we lose, Em?" Why else would he be so nervous? I braced myself.

Emmett started pacing again. "Technically, I didn't lose anything. I mean, some losses are expected, it's part of the business, but we are not doing too badly."

"Great! Then what's the problem? We have the money then, right?"

"That's exactly the problem. We don't."

* * *

**A/N: Just when Edward thought he could relax a little. What has Emmett done? Do you hate him?**  
**I am trying to pre-write. if there is a pause, it means I'm working on finishing this story. Not there yet, but I'm trying. I'm on Twitter – Detochkina.**  
**As always, thank you for reading. Please review.**


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